


All Because Of You

by ObsceneSins



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Drug Use, Heavy Emotions, Incest, M/M, Mpreg, Prostitution, Rape, Semi-consensual Sex, Transgender themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:41:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 82,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsceneSins/pseuds/ObsceneSins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With out the knowledge of his heat coming on, drug riddled Sherlock stumbles out into the streets for something other than his prostitution. A certain doctor finds the young Omega and without knowledge of what he's doing or who, he takes him. Sherlocks life is twisted back around a few times, as a pregnant lone Omega trying to fix what he has done..</p><p>CURRENTLY ON HIATUS. DO NOT KNOW WHEN THIS WILL BE UPDATED AGAIN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Because He Was An Omega

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was my first Sherlock fic and first story on this website. I have written on Fanfiction.com before, but decided to try for this website and see if I preferred it better to fanfiction. Polite criticticism is accepted. Thank you!

Sherlock knew from the time he was three that he certainly did not belong in the Holmes family.

His appearance did not help when it came to fitting in with his family, as unlike his father and elder brother, he gained his mother's genes instead of his fathers.

Then there was the issue with his own body.

He was an _Omega_.

Holmes men were all Alphas, until the day he was born and Omega was practically written all over him, his mother's amniotic fluids spilling his sweet Omega scents instead of thick, musky Alpha scent.

By age five, he discovered how much he just hated his overweight and filthy smug brother, the one child his parents had originally only wanted. As he tried to control Sherlock’s life, be the father figure that Sherlock’s own father was not, Sherlock learned to think differently, outwit him in most aspects. And the only way to save yourself from your enemy was to think like they did.

And Sherlock learned.

He began to build his mind palace; he began to learn how to observe, to deduce, to _know_.

By age ten, Sherlock's hatred for his family grew. Unlike Mycroft, he was just there. Mycroft was an heir; specifically planned it seemed, just for the Holmes family. Sherlock was just an accident, the only name for it he could find.

No one seemed to care, until, to his greatest disgrace, his father deemed his son worthy of being a help to the Holmes's estate and empire they had built.

To marry his Omega son off, to another business man, it seemed was his only choice. But until then, they never cared.

And Sherlock approved of that. To be left alone for his studies, his experiments.

By age thirteen, his mind palace was fives bigger than the Taj Mahal, he was the top of his class, and he was engaged.

Engaged to an elder Alpha that would be taking over his own father's company and marrying Sherlock once the thin raven haired boy was of age, to join the two companies together under the Holmes's estate. But until then no one paid much attention to Sherlock, as the wedding date was already set, and the plans were made, all tucked into a binder kept in his father's study.

By age sixteen, Sherlock was having his Ruts, and would go into heat like a normal Omega would, and the wedding date was drawn closer, the families urgent to expand their empire, and for Sherlock to be bonded and married, to birth the new heir from his-to-be husband.  
Sherlock began to take in the comfort of drugs for his lonely childhood, for his parent’s eagerness to marry him off, for being a freak.

He dabbled in what he could, and it became clear to him that he was an addict.

And God, he loved it.

The adrenaline rush of the cocaine, the pills he popped, the cigarettes burned on his tongue, the tastes, the smells, the feelings.

It was how Sherlock fell. Kicked out of his family. Out of his home. Strewn from his lavish lifestyle.

It was how he met Jim Moriarty. It was how his life was flipped completely opposite.

And it all started because he was an Omega.  
                                                                    

                                                                                                            _X~X_

_Alphas._

Alpha scent hung in the room, mingling gently with the sweet pheromones of an Omega.

_Omegas._

The scent of the Omega began to die out, and the heavy wafts from the Alpha evaporated soon enough and Sherlock shut his eyes. His scent hung in the air for a bit longer before leaving, same as his breath as it slowed from deep heavy pants to slow, long inhales and exhales following soon after. He grabbed for the folds of his clothes blindly, pulling them flush against his skin, trying to pull them tighter to his boney frame.

Without another thought he stood and crossed the room, letting his bare feet pad the wood floor.

The Alpha behind him had exited the restroom and now stood, counting out bills, flipping through them quickly.

"Where should I leave them, eh?" Sherlock turned, his thick ringlets bouncing with a single move of his head. Sherlock eyed the man, plump with beady eyes, obviously a pawnbroker, bad marriage, and was trying to get back at his own Omega wife for cheating by being with his own Omega for the night.

"Coffee table." He said quietly, wrapping his arms around himself.

The bills were dropped to the table, a couple fanning over the surface and skirting away from the pile. Sherlock watched them fall, counting the bills as they landed. It was double the original price, but he wasn't complaining.

Once the door shut behind the hideous Alpha, Sherlock picked up the skull sitting on his mantle piece and slid his tray out from underneath it, it was already prepped and ready for the afterwards. Sherlock sat down on the couch and relaxed as he began.

Sherlock blinked and swallowed heavily, before blinking again and finally letting his heavy eyes slip close.

He was tired, more tired than he had ever been before. He didn't know it it was normal, or not, but between his fading consciousness and the effects of the drug that was rushing through his blood stream, derived from the needle that was stuck in his arm, he couldn't seem to give a damn.  
Everything went black and Sherlock gave a small grateful sigh.  
~

With a thick sputter and gag, Sherlock threw himself up, out of the icy water that was drowning him, quite literally. He hoped for a moment, that it was a dream, but once he came up and found himself in his own dingy bathroom, staring into the eyes of the man who nearly killed him.  
"Moran." The tall, rugged and scarred man smirked. Sherlock glanced quickly to the side, spotting Jim sitting just in the dim doorway.

“‘Ello, 'Lock. Have a nice nap?"

"Bugger off." Sherlock hissed, scrambling out of the bath. His clothes were now heavy on his boney frame and he tried to shrug the thick, sodding wet clothes off and onto the floor. He glanced back at Jim, watching his dark eyes ghost over his empty frame and then back again. He enjoyed the sight it seemed.

"You nearly overdosed, again, may I add." Sherlock rolled his eyes to himself as he pulled on his robe, draping it over his wet skin and shaking his wet hair, watching his curls drip.

"Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing." Sherlock mumbled to himself, licking his lips as water dripped on to them. He watched Jim's expression, watched it flicker, but Sherlock caught it as the mask slipped back into place.

"Sebby, leave him be." Moran looked between Jim and Sherlock before beginning to leave. He stopped and stood by Jim, who didn't acknowledge him. Sebastian coughed softly and Jim glanced at him, sending him a small glare.

"Leave us." Sherlock watched as Moran, tense and stiff, left. He fast a desperate glance back into the room, and Sherlock caught everything Jim did not.

Rejection. Anger. Love. Hatred.

Sherlock gave a small sigh- he felt his skin sink back to its tight sleeve over his bones, and then concentrated on Jim.

Jim was an average height, lean and skinny male. He had dark, burning eyes that always had some sort of villainous feeling behind them. Sherlock didn't know what he did, he barely scratched the surface when he tried to investigate, but there were causes he knew that Jim Moriarty was involved with, or completely in charge of in Europe.

Sherlock didn’t delve too deep into it. He knew enough as it was.

Sherlock watched Jim’s eyes look over his nearly nude body without any shame and he shied away.

“You know, Sebastian IS your husband.” He said in a shallow tone, eyeing the two silver rings on Jim’s pinkie and thumb. Sebastian Moran, now Sebastian Moriarty legally, wore the three silver rings on his three inside fingers.

Jim chuckled as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his three piece Westwood suit, one of the many suits he always seemed to don, complete with Italian leather shoes and silk underwear. Jim rubbed his chin as he stepped closer, and Sherlock kept his stubborn stance, keeping himself stiff and tense as Jim’s hand gently roamed over his bones. He started at Sherlock’s chin and began to trail down, his fingernails, manicured and shined as they were, gently scratched as Sherlock’s nipples. He held in his moan as his body shook and his nipples became hard under Jim’s touch. Oh, he hated it, but what could he do? He belonged to Jim, and Jim got what he wanted, and he sure as hell wanted Sherlock.

His fingers kept going further, skirting over an emaciated frame, trailed across his rib bones, over his hip bones that poked out so harshly, and then stopped right above his pubic bone that so harshly jutted. Jim gently scratched, and Sherlock groaned softly, knowing his resistance was failing. He wished for once, that he could stop Jim, tell him no, but Jim owned him like one would own a pet.

Jim’s fingers twined into Sherlock’s thick curls and pulled, yanking his head back and leaving Sherlock feeling vulnerable as his full neck was bared. Sherlock shivered, and felt a small stone of dread sinking in his stomach as Jim leaned close, his teeth scratching against his skin gently.

“Sebby may be my husband, but he is _n_ ot my mate.” Jim hissed venomously.

It may have been the drugs still pumping through his system, it may have been just Sherlock’s complete lack of submission to remember such things that weren’t important, but he didn’t remember how they went from standing in the bathroom, Jim making him look raggedy next to him in a suit, to lying on that disgusting sofa, Jim buried deep inside of Sherlock’s warm walls.

Sherlock’s gripped the ledge of the sofa, his head tossed back carelessly. He stared outside his grimy window, watching the rain fall as he was rocked back and forth, the couch fabric rubbing roughly against his backside. The window was dirty, a poor sight, something he never bothered to pay attention to. On worst days, Sherlock’s flat was dark all day long due to not cleaning the windows. He sniffled and turned away from the windows, feeling as if he should open them.

_And peer out at what? What is there to look at?_

He jumped, coming back to reality as he could feel Jim’s hips pressed to his, their legs straining against each other, he could feel Jim’s sweat dripping onto him, and moans between the two of them spilt from their mouths without any shame.

Sherlock lifted his head with a small grunt, his neck craning painfully as he stared down at Jim. He watched the older male enter his body, pressing swelling knot to Sherlock’s hole, he would press gently in a little, but never go in.  
Sherlock felt a rush as the drugs kicked in completely, and with the rush of sex, staring down at that large knot under him, a full blush of Omega pheromones hit the air, as if he had perfumed the air with his scent. His thighs grew even wetter, and he felt his inner vagina open gently, giving way to more room that Jim could’ve slid in, filling Sherlock with his large knot.

The urge to bond was hard to avoid during moments like this, and Sherlock to restrain himself from shoving down onto that large knot, wanting to fill his wet empty space.

Another blush of pheromones and Sherlock finally thrust his own fingers in his hole, shoving them in rapidly. He looked at Jim, who was concentrating on the paler one under him with lust filled eyes.

“Oh, love, you’re _so_ wet.”

The slick wetness that covered Sherlock’s thighs grew and dripped onto the couch as Jim began moaning dirty things into Sherlock’s ear. Jim pressed in a bit more and Sherlock felt his Omega genes go ballistic. He began ramming himself up and down and shrieked in euphoria.

“Yes! Yes, Jim, please, please _, fi-fill me_!” Sherlock sobbed, finally pulling his hands to his face that was becoming quickly wet with tears. It was so wonderful, but so torturous at the same time. To have such a big knot under him, not being filled. His uterus was begging, his omega pussy was leaking for it, but why wouldn’t anyone give it to him?

Suddenly, Jim was pressing close, their sweaty, wet bodies and he nipped hard at Sherlock’s ear. Sherlock gave a groan, feeling wetness trailing along his hot skin, and knew he was bleeding. He gave a moan- he couldn’t tell if it was for pleasure or pain.

“You want me to fill you? Fill your wet Omega pussy?” Sherlock gave a sob, his body shuddering and writhing. He squirmed deliciously under Jim, as his erection bobbed against his torso, bobbing between his stomach and Jim’s hips.

“ _YES_!” He shrieked.

He gasped as Jim pushed in deep, and he thrust a hand down between their entwined legs and used the palm of his hand to shove Sherlock’s pumping fingers in, filling his leaking Omega pussy, stretching open his soft, wet and warm muscles that surrounded Jim’s engorged cock. With the sudden fullness, slicked in his own fluids, Sherlock’s orgasm hit him hard, without any buildup. It was something Jim could only do for him, and he felt his back arch, and crack and twist a little as his throat went raw from screaming. He gripped the couch with his boney fingers as Jim held him. They rocked together as Sherlock was pushed through his orgasm, his legs shaking violently. He sobbed loudly as soon as it was over, his body aching and begging for more so badly.

Jim pulled out and began frothing against Sherlock’s raised leg with a series of grunts and moans following him, and then-

“ _Oh.hhh, ohhh…oh, shit_.” He came, his fluids running down Sherlock’s skinny leg, his Alpha semen a darker fluid color than Sherlock’s own skin. With his orgasm came the musky scent of Alpha pheromones. It filled the air and left Sherlock with a high as Jim climbed off of him.

"Not this time, sweetie." he chuckled as he watched Sherlock's boney frame move gently, his skin coming off the skeelton that was hi body as he panted. Sherlock whimpered, feeling his inner Omega desires extinguish once more.

Sherlock laid there as Jim cleaned himself and got dressed once more, tucking himself back into his suit, obviously leaving the building altogether for business of some sort. Sherlock shut his eyes as he came down off his high of both the drugs and pheromones, leaving his system quickly.

He knew Jim had only done that to pump his blood faster and get the drugs moving faster to leave his system, to rely on him for more drugs, to tease his omega genes until he never wanted another soul, until he only wanted Jim.

The sounds of Jim’s footsteps were loud to Sherlock’s pounding head as Jim walked closer, closer…closer…  
The sinking of the thick sofa was Jim as he sat back down by the small male. Sherlock whimpered, feeling helpless as he laid there, Jim’s fingers running through his hair, soft kisses down his back. He swallowed, feeling his throat raw and hoarse, thick and clotted almost it seemed.

“Sebastian…Sebastian is the one you’re supposed to do these things to…” with a soft kiss to the back of his neck, Jim gave a poisonous chuckle.

“No, no, love. He’s just there. I would much rather defile this beautiful body of yours.” With another few kisses, Sherlock felt his skin crawl as Jim’s hands traveled down.

“Oh, beautiful…Dear, you’re such a beautiful skeleton…You need to eat a little more.” Jim replied, suddenly a bit harshly as he stood, and Sherlock inwardly sighed in relief. He turned to see Jim standing by the coffee table, setting a bag of white powder down on its glass surface. Sherlock twitched, seeing it. He would have to make sure to make it last longer, and not nearly overdose again.

“Why bother…I just continue to lose weight.” Sherlock whispered. Jim was suddenly hoisting him up by his underarms, wrapping him in a blanket off the back of the couch. He held Sherlock up and gently traced his face, pursing his lips in disdain.

“Oh love…such a skinny frame, how do you expect to hold my baby?...” Sherlock swallowed heavily, feeling his heart race.

“S-Sebastian-“

"Love, shh…If Sebastian could give me a baby, do you really think I would have to rely on someone like you to give me a baby?” he gently kissed Sherlock’s temple and pushed him back against the couch, sliding his fingers down to rub Sherlock’s thighs. With a pat, he stood and smiled, this tapped Sherlock’s nose gently.

“Don’t waste it all, love.” Sherlock nodded gently, not knowing for once how to finish the conversation. He watched Jim leave, his rings flashing.  
An Alpha wore his wedding bands on his pinkie and his thumb, to symbolize how he was the strength and weakness of a relationship. An Omega wore the three rings on the pointer, middle, and forefinger to show they were the center of the relationship, the one who helped point the Alpha in the right direction, and the forefinger to symbolize the love they shared.

But Sherlock knew better. Alphas cheated, Omegas were abused and hurt, and the Betas all stood by and watched. Alphas dominated, Omegas were the scum. The world went by what the Alphas wanted to do, and Omegas followed suit to what they were told.

Sherlock watched Jim leaving, knowing this alpha was the one he relied on for his drugs, his home, his money, and even though he wasn’t the one that wore the rings, he knew he was still trapped, exactly as

Sebastian was trapped under Jim’s command.

Sherlock turned to the side and watched the door to his flat shut slowly, closing with a small snap on the leering smile of Jim Moriarty.

**_X~X_ **

The next day, Sherlock cleaned the entire flat.

He never enjoyed cleaning often when he was a younger lad, but if Sherlock didn’t clean his flat, he wouldn’t be able to stand living in it if he didn’t. It made his skin crawl to think of how many Alphas and Omegas sweat, skin cells, possible blood, saliva, and semen were all over his flat, in his cushions, under his carpet.

But the cleaning smells nauseated him to the point that as soon as he was done cleaning, he would keep out of the flat for a good amount of time. So, there he stood, the next afternoon, sitting across the street in the drizzling rain. It gently sprinkled and a few heavier plops hit his forehead, or his hair and seeped cold into his scalp. He shivered under his pathetic excuse for a coat, and the trembling shook his bones.  
He sucked on a limp cigarette that hung from his mouth, watching the rain as it drizzled gently, eyeing the people that walked by. Some people could look at him and know what he was with a glance, eyeing him with disgust, with pity, their sympathy, and some didn’t know what he was, but eyed him still.

But Sherlock knew what everyone around him was. He could see it. It was a skill he had learned to acquire as a young child in grade school. It often got him in trouble, not with just his teachers but his classmates as well. Many days a week he came home with a bloody nose and a busted lip.

Sherlock sniffed and folded his arms across his chest as he finished his cigarette and set it on the ground to crush it out. He placed a new one, his last one, in between his lips and lit it with his lighter, watching the flame die in the rain. He puffed on the cancer stick and looked back up at his flat with a sigh, inspecting the grimy windows.

Technically, it was not his flat. Jim owned the whole building, probably the whole street as it was.

Sherlock glanced up and down the street, as if expecting it to change but he knew it wouldn’t. The gloomy and dark atmosphere of this part of town was the reason why he was living here. This was the part of town where someone would expect to find one like Sherlock living. The building he lived in was a brothel, one of the underground ones, the classier kinds, too. James Moriarty made sure his clients were comfortable.

Sherlock looked up at the gloomy building across from his, looking to the near top.

“The higher, the better. You start on the bottom, in this one sweetie, then I’ll decide if you’re worth anything.” Jim smiled that leery smile as he draped an arm over Sherlock’s shoulders. They had been wider and thicker with meat before, but he was 17, out on the streets. This was his last resort. With a nod, followed by a glance from glassy eyes, Sherlock stumbled into the small dingy bedroom, which seemed more like a closet.  
He woke up two hours later, shaking and watching his fingers twitch in the dark until he finally had to strength to get out of bed and stumble to find his new landlord and dealer.  
He lost his virginity that night.  
The next day he was moved up to the third floor. The next week, the sixth.

“Seven floors…and he lives on the seventh.” Sherlock mumbled to himself.

The higher the floor, the bigger the flat. More elegant the flat, the better the escort was for the night, but it also meant more money.  
Sherlock brought in more customers than anyone else did, and he supposed it was easy to do. He never exactly tried, because he was completely unsure of how people found his skeleton figure as lovely, such as Jim did. It bothered and picked at him for days until he finally dropped it, deciding to let it go. As long as he made the money, and Jim supplied him, there was nothing else to think about.  
Sherlock’s stomach twisted- of course there were other things to think about. But, his mind had become so…quiet since he’d been here.  
In grade school, all the way to his interview for university, to his engagement party, his head was loud, filled with things running over, mulling in his head, spilling out from behind the walls of his mind palace, he couldn’t stop it.

Sherlock remembers the first time getting high, doing drugs, feeling the calm wash over him, his mind going blank, his body relaxing, everything gone…just silence…  
And that’s how he intended to keep it.

He looked back up at the building as he finished off his last cigarette and crushed it into the ground below that bench. The rain had picked up now and was hitting him, beginning to soak him.

His grimy windows were left open to air out.

He stood.

And walked away.

The windows could do with a good washing.  
                                                                                                                              ** _X~X_**

Sherlock could taste blood in his mouth, could feel the pain in his boney side.

A crack resounded, and more pain.

Was he being kicked?

He blinked, feeling blood drip down over his eye, hot and sticky, trying to block his vision. He watched the shoe come up, about to kick him once more. Sherlock reacted finally as everything seemed to slow, and he could feel the world topple. He tried to straighten it and rolled away from the offending boot.

_Size 12, belongs to a male, approximately 6’3”-_

The fist almost came down on his chest, as he was now splayed on his back. He could feel hot blood draining off his face, running down his throat. His world started to spin.

_Bruised ribs, possibly one cracked, fractured nose, not broken but damaged, no teeth missing nor broken, cuts on head, possible concussion, explains the blood, black eye, busted lip, bruised shin, fractured knuckles-_

Sherlock watched the fist come down aiming for his chest cavity. The world slowed once more as he looked up into the males face.

_Caucasian, English, twenty-no, nineteen, doesn’t study, works a minimum wage but desires to be promoted desperately, professional boxer-_

Sherlock slapped, knocked and the kicked with his good leg to move the fist away, hurried and stood- his world toppled violently but he kept with it, grabbing the arm, twisting, then striking at an angle with the palm of his boney fist. The elbow cracked and the arm fractured.

- _No, only studied a few years. Nowhere close to professional_.

Sherlock came up and whipped, his leg coming up, pain sparked through his bruised one and he gritted through it as his world began to become fuzzy. With the successful crack of his foot against the man’s head, he stopped, feeling the blood rush. He listened to his blood rush through his body, listened as the world around him stayed muted and he listened to the dangerous beating of his own heart.  
With one successful stomp, he listened to the male’s back crack and the male shrieked, but Sherlock never heard his pain cries.

_Four cracked vertebrae, another broken, broke the collar bone, concussion, hairline fracture across the temple, down to the ear. Destroyed right inner ear cochlear function. Broken arm._

The world around him came back, speeded up, and was loud as the male on the ground screamed and shouted in pain and Sherlock was shoved out of the way by several people, one a female, who began to slap and hit him. Sherlock studied her between the blocked views from her arms.

_Goth. Works minimum wage. Pregnant. Doesn’t know yet. Anorexic. Self harm. Meth user. Smoker._

He glanced to the male on the ground as several men and women surrounding him and the young girl that was thrashing and screaming at Sherlock ferociously.

_A couple. Her boyfriend. He was possessive._

_Why did he attack me?_

Sherlock blinked, suddenly feeling nausea, feeling sick, his world was spinning. He gently backed away from the small crowd, then took off soon. Things were unraveling getting out of hand and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the police came and he was courted off, stuffed into the back of a police car and thrown in jail.

He didn’t know where he ran, but once it was empty, he stopped and tried to remember. He looked down at his fingers first, and upon seeing the tobacco and ash stains strewn across them, he sniffed them and then picked at his fingernails.

_I tried…I tried to get a cigarette._

Sherlock shut his eyes as he leaned against the wall, feeling everything beginning to ache and burn. His body began to shiver and Sherlock tried to push the pain away. More heat swelled inside, and finally he tried to put up with it. He began to pant, feeling his chest constrict, his skin grew warm. His thighs became immensely hot.

_She had a cigarette…I wanted one… I took one…cliché over-possessive boyfriend comes running over to beat me up. He was an Alpha, so why didn’t he smell me as an Omega?...he would’ve known I wasn’t a threat._

Sherlock groaned as he slid further onto the wall, feeling the rain really beginning to come down now on his head. He was soaked within a minute.

_Why couldn’t he smell me?...why? It’s just not…_

Sherlock mulled over it, as he sat there. He rubbed his head, feeling pain as he tried to remember, tried to get past the concussion, or maybe it was his hard drive deleting it all…

He shivered and felt heat, groaning and wondering if he was possibly bleeding internally.

_I just can’t understand why he didn’t smell…_

A sudden blossoming of warmth swelled in his belly, and his pants were drenched in his sweet omega nectar and pheromones, and a high came over Sherlock. His eyelids lowered almost sleepily, and he groaned as he lay, splayed against the wall. His chest constricted, he panted harder. He could feel his belly twisting and turning, growing hotter and hotter. His pants became dripping and soaked with his sweet Omega nectars and sweet pheromones his womb and sweet Omega pussy ached for an Alpha to mount him, knot him, bond with him, fill him until he could feel it against his cervix, spread his legs and fill his stomach with their musky and tangy Alpha semen. It begged for kits to be born. His uterus ached for its due bonding.

He knew that the old class that his family was, what he had been, sold their Omegas children off if they did not seem worthy of being independent to take over a company and be trusted with it once bonded to their Alpha. There were Omegas as young as thirteen, their very first heat used to bond instead of being solo for their first time.

This was a new age, though, and more omegas were becoming independent, waiting to birth their kits.

But, Sherlock’s womb obviously did not the difference, for every Heat he had, he begged for an Alpha to bond, even if he had no desire, not even for Jim’s.

As the blossoming of his Heat began in his stomach and his pants, he suddenly remembered what time of the month it was-

_Idiot, you didn’t keep track._

-And he was stuck on the street, vulnerable and hurt-

 _Alphas around, too many. Need to get home_.

-during his Heat, which would call any unbounded Alpha within the radius of a mile to him.

Sherlock slid into his Heat with a giggle.

_That’s why he couldn’t smell me…_

With a gush, Sherlock felt more Omega fluids slide down his trousers and dirty himself.

He giggled and with a topple, his world spun and he collapsed on the ground.

Lying in the rain, a smile on his face that he did not want there, his Heat wracking his body and making him immobile, as well as his injuries also did, Sherlock began to wonder why him.  
Omegas.

All because he was an Omega.


	2. Alpha Scum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock, age twenty, has trapped himself into his own comfortable world of forbidden prostitution and sex between Alphas and Omegas. While living under Jim's command, he is expected to birth his drugdealer's and landlord's child that his own husband, Sebastian Moran can not. With no desire to bond, Sherlock tries to keep himself afloat on his drugs and his life of undesirable sex to stay independent. After a fight, injured and hit with the forgotten oncoming of one of his Heats, he collapses and is found by a certain army doctor Alpha only wanting to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was posted so late, my readers!  
> My Microsoft Word closed and wouldnt unlock, so i had to download a different document device to work with.

John Watson _hated_ being an Alpha.

He _despised_ it with every moral fiber being in his body, which tried to convince him that being an alpha was splendid in every which way and direction position possible. As much as he tried to ignore it though, it  
nagged at him. For the last twenty-nine years of his life, it felt like had been telling himself that being an Alpha could possibly be the worst thing there was.

John sighed and closed shut the patient file as he placed it into the small bin on the waiting room desk and picked up another- twenty- three hours straight of rushing to the surgery, working in the A&E and the last few had consisted of earning extra hours by taking care of the cold and flu ones that drifted into the clinic.

_But, back to the main topic, John_

John rolled his eyes at himself and continued on picking up a file. He opened it and skimmed it quickly, but his mind was still stuck on the last patient.

She had been young, barely over eighteen. John smelt her as a bonded female Omega the moment he entered the room, and he knew instantly that her broken arm was not from falling down in the shower, but instead of by the large and very shady looking Alpha who had been standing by the entire time, watching his mate get fixed up.

John had wanted so desperately bad to say something, wanted the Alpha to leave the room so as he could talk to the patient and say something.

But, she was eighteen, she was legal and it wasn’t like he could do much about the situation she had most likely put her own self in. John could only help for her safety and health she’d be fine.

John sighed and set the file down with a tired sigh. He needed the hour input, but it was starting to drain him terribly.

He heard his pager go off and grabbed it, seeing the number it was, and took off, out of the clinic. He rushed up the stairs, hurrying to his patient.

 _Back and forth, back and forth it feels like._  
~

 

Once John had gotten the patient to settle from her seizure, he decided to take a break, which was how he found himself in the doctor’s lounge, sipping a bitter cup of coffee for an extra kick.

John rubbed his face and mulled over the last few hours, wondering if he could take seeing any more of what he’d been dealing with the past few years.

John clenched his coffee cup a bit tighter.

Every day it seemed to him, that more Omegas stumbled into the clinic, and John quickly thought over how many had come in that day.

Twelve. Twelve Omegas had come in, and John grimaced at this, three had been apparent drug users and the others, abused of some sort.

But could he say anything?

_Absolutley not._

Alphas _did not_ work that way. Omegas _did not_ work that way.

Betas were the only ones who were allowed to, anything else was faux pas. It would be rude to ask an Alpha why he was hurting his mate. John had done this several times, only to end up having fists thrown at him. Luckily, his army training have given him the strength, momentum, and experience to deal with the reactions, as he had seen worse.

John shivered in his hollow state of mind, remembering how one Alpha had spat at him, the Omega left behind on the table, crying softly from pain that John could not help with and how upset he was becoming because of his bonded Alpha. The Omega had been a small one, feminine-like, sweet and petite for e twenty-seven year old. He had soft brown eyes and beautiful blond hair that John felt himself melt for, the eyes especially. But his innards twisted because those soft and beautiful eyes had been filled with nothing but grief, and sadness, a hollow, empty look to them cast such an impression on John he was shocked that the poor thing still had a mind, and had not become such as a ghost would be.

The poor Omega had been brought in with rectal bleeding, and with the task of answering how it had happened, was left with nothing but the truth.

_“H-He got a bit rough with me.”_

John shivered and clasped a hand to his mouth, wondering why the Alpha had not bothered to understand his mate’s body was in pain during their coitus, but John knew why. He was not bothering to make love to the one he had promised himself too, he had just wanted to get off.

John had asked, and simple, the Alpha charged with a fist, snapping at him.

“ _The bitch needed to understand ‘ow things work in this ‘lationship!”_

_He acted as if we train Omegas to be nothing short of housewives who bow to our every whim._

John blinked, coming out from his own memories.

The Alphas he saw, and the treatment of the Omegas left him with one thing in mind.

_This world is rotten._

John sighed as he turned back to his coffee, only to grimace at the cold taste of it.

With a sag in his shoulders, and a sigh, John gave up and threw the coffee cup away. He rubbed at his tired eyes once more, wondering how much longer he had to be here. He wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep in his cold bed.

A bed that was never filled, never warm with another’s body, and John knew it would most likely stay that way until he died from loneliness, like most Omegas and alphas who could not find a compatible mate.

If Alphas and Omegas were lucky enough, they found their mates in friends, or after a few short dates. It could be the person they knew that lived across the street from them at ten. The age usually did not matter, if an Alpha found a compatible Omega, they more than less likely were together. John had met several kids, ten, eleven, even twelve years old already having a mate. Several Omega girls and guys were already pregnant at the bittersweet ages of sixteen and seventeen, and their parents were ecstatic. Some families found themselves with fourteen and fifteen year olds mating, bonding and getting married.

John felt sickened whenever he had a patient that was barely an adult walk in with a swollen belly, filled with child and ready to birth. Omegas were never given chances in life, it seemed. They were just there to give birth and obey.

John had even once met a mated pair that were five and six, and the youngest was a girl. He found himself handing them to another doctor, for his stomach could not stand it.

And things just seemed to be worsening.

John gripped the countertop in front of him, remembering how it had been when he was in Afghanistan. Omegas were not exactly allowed in the army, unless they proved themselves worthy.

Many died, and no one came to their aide. They were a shame to the Omegas and their families, dedicating themselves to something like the army, when they could’ve stayed home and did the laundry instead.

John felt his spine bristle, his Alpha instinct trying to tell him something, but he pushed it away, forgetting it instantly. It was nothing new to John- he had been doing it forever.

“John? You alright?” John blinked, finally escaping his own thoughts, his own hateful train that collided with every torturous subject there was it seemed. He pushed himself back to reality and then turned to face his boss with a tired posture.

Sara was tall, and elegant in a manner. She wasn’t beautiful, but she wasn’t ugly. John had liked her at one point, but now he found himself wanting to get away from her as soon as possible whenever they spoke.

He bristled again, and he smelt the usual pungent odor coming from her. Omega, fertile…Non-compatible.

John gave a heavy sigh that felt necessary.

“Yes, Sara? How can I help you?” She pulled her lips into a tight line.

“How long have you been on call for John? You look knackered.” John rubbed the side of his face and stifled a yawn.

“Nearly twenty-five hours. Give or take forty-five minutes.” Sara grimaced and John suddenly felt light-headed. He was quite tired.

“Go on home, John. You’ve done enough for today.” He blinked.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now, go, before you fall asleep on the floor.” John nodded and watched as Sara left with a little swing of her ponytail. He gave himself a small smile before leaving to change and head home.

_Chinese tonight sounded good._

                                                           ~

The relief that came with John’s departure from the hospital was enough to make him wake up from his groggy state and lift his spirits a bit.

He even decided to walk home, after he stopped and got dinner from a Chinese takeout. With a rumbling stomach and warm food in hand, John continued down the street, walking all the way. He didn’t live far, on most good days, the days like today where he didn’t need his cane as much, it was a brief fifteen minute walk. On the bad days, the days where he did need his cane terribly, it was more than a twenty minute walk, and he never attempted it anymore. He usually got a cab.

John smiled a little to himself as he walked, and then turned the corner to the next street.

Then he frowned to himself.

After riding in a cab all week to work, he’d forgotten momentarily there was a bad neighborhood he was forced to walk through. It could’ve been a worse street, but this one was inevitable to walk to get to his house. He usually spotted a prostitute here and there, not because of the way they dressed, but only because they had asked John on several occasions if he “wanted some.”

Always declined, he did so.

There was a liquor store down here, along with a barely running sandwich shop and a small minimart, where the teens and young ones were usually spotted trying to nick the packages of gum and drinks from under the cashiers nose. People sat out on the step usually in groups, a beer or two in hand, or their windows were open, blaring the telly or some other noise that John hated.

But tonight, the street was eerily quiet, and he watched as he people began to shut their doors, kids were trudging home.

John watched a few men amble around an alley, cat calling and others were-

John bristled and suddenly he understood why they were standing around. He could sense an Omega over there, but other than that, he didn’t know. He sighed and kept walking, but with a rumble from the dark sky, he looked up as it began to downpour, and the children rushed home. The men grew angry, but John watched intently, growing suspicious as they still remained where they did. Some were looking around nervously,, others had grins on their faces and johns stomach flipped.

Then he watched one in the center finally lean down, squatting over someone else, and a sound so low that John barely heard it sounded. John’s heart began to beat and he bristled again, his spine tingling, his Alpha genes reacting.

He had to help whomever was over there.

Chinese food forgotten, he raced across the street and shoved through the crowd of rowdy twenty-year olds and pubscent adults. Everyone here was younger than he was.

“ ‘Ey, wait in line, wanker.” John turned to the male that had spoke to him, who couldn’t have been older than eighteen or nineteen, and he growled, his Alpha canines showing. His superiorty and dominance here was detected and he watched several of, what he could smell from them, Alphas back off slowly.

“C-calm down, man we ain’t-“ They all snapped to attention as the dark figure on the ground that John finally got a look at whimpered and he bristled once more, his reaction to protect appearing and he growled at all the other Alphas. He watched the older ones run off, but a few of the stupider ones stuck around, wanting to show off their own Alpha dominance.

 _I went to Afghanistan, I don’t have to deal with this bullshit_.

One came swinging, but John was much quicker, and before the fist hit him, he grabbed it, twisted it and sent his own flying at the younger. His head went back with a crack and a shriek of pain, which sent the other ones running.

Finally alone, he turned to see one more still over the figure on the ground. With a possessive snarl, he grabbed the last male and dragged him up, and threw him somewhat five or so feet into the street.

“Now get away! Disgusting…” john mumbled to himself, watching with narrowed eyes as they all bolted. He shook his head, which was dripping wet with rain that flooded over him. It was dark and cold by now and John figured his night was ruined.

He turned to the small figure on the ground, the alpha, and was stunned to find the most beautiful thing on Earth, lying at his own mercy. He felt his cheeks blossom with blood and his heart rammed in his chest.

Thick, dark, and matted curls spiraled around the small Omegas pale face. His face was a sight, his cheekbones casted such shadows and his lips looked delectable, their adorable cupid’s bow enticing John in a way. He could see his eyes were half open with what appeared to be sleepiness, but was most likely something else. His face had an almost feline like look to it, with beautiful silvery eyes that casted mysterious over him.

John could see his petite, almost feminine body poking through his wet clothes that were glued to him, and his ribs were poking one bu one through his damp shirt and his thick coat.

John felt his heart ram in his chest as he reached down, slowly, to grasp the male’s hand, his long, slender fingers in John’s thick and calloused ones. His skin was soft and John wanted to wrap himself up in it.

John gently pulled him to his feet and watched as he stumbled. Then he noticed the bleeding that was staining the side of the Omega’s face and he felt himself startled at how dark the blood contrasted to the young Omega’s pale skin. He gently grasped the male’s head and pulled it close.

“O-oww…”he whimpered and John knew it was bad. He had barely applied any pressure.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, I’m just here to help…Did any of them hurt you?” He let go to grasp the omega’s shoulders, but watched as he stumbled away instead, further down the alley, his glazed over, and obviously groggy, eyes widened in fright.

“N-no! s-stay away…’m not ready…need….need to go…Jim…” He watched as he began to back away but eventually fell down on his rear. John sighed and walked closer.

“Hey, look I’m-“ He stiffened and john then knew why they were over here.

He could smell it.

_OMEGA. FERTILE._

John’s mind whirled and he bristled, feeling his heart ram in his chest, his Alphas pheromones turning the air around him into a foggy, and musky area.

_**COMPATIBLE.** _

Something John had been waiting for his entire life was here, in front of him.

His mind wasn’t his own- it was now a completely different person as he looked down at the small Omega.

“P-please…help?” The small Omega gently sobbed.

“Mine.”

He lunged.

In such a flash, he had the small and feeble Omega under him, he didn’t know how it happened, but it did. Then, a tearing of cloth and an unzipped fly brought him to be partially naked with the Omega under him in the same condition. He didn’t register the hitting, nor the screaming the Omega was doing, nothing at all. He could feel the fists hitting, bashing him with an attempt at being aggressive.

But at the same time, the Omega was tugging at him, panting for the friction that John was giving him as they grinded together pleasantly.

“Mine. Mine. Yes, mine.” John growled in a possessive way, then bit down deepily into the Omega’s neck.

He could feel the Omega shaking, sobbing, pleading to go away, begging him to continue, asking him to stop, asking him to make it feel good, panting, screaming, groaning, moaning, pain, pleasure…

 _Amazing_.

John’s fingernails dug into the thin legs as they shook, and he lifted them, then reached down and furiously tried to find his favorite area. Once the leaking, wet Omega pussy was found, he began to thrust his fingers in with intent to loosen him up, but the pheromones that wafted into John's nose told him everything.

_Ready to mate. Bond. Must. Must. Mine. Fuck. Yes, oh yes._

He pushed in without another thought and listened as the Omega screamed and then whimpered, and john watched his hands curl into fists and grab John’s jacket and attempt to rip it to shreds in his hands. John began to move his hips experimentally, then began to fuck the loose hole, listening to the beautiful sounds that spilled from the Omega’s mouth.

“A-Ah! No!”

John almost stopped.

“Yes! Oh, God!” With a sob continued, John began to thrust faster, listening to the Omega conflict with himself. John finally pressed his face to the Omegas and growled as he bit his lip and pulled.

“Mine. All mine.”

The omega sobbed and they both grinded, John fucked and then the omega was screaming again.

“Yes! Yes! Knot me! Ah! No! No, you mustn’t! I-I don’t know!” He sobbed.

John heard him, but it seemed only half was received.

He felt his knot swell and he thrusted it into the tight wet heat underneath him, the fragile Omega scents overcoming his Alpha musk. His knot popped through the Omega’s tight hole, and he could feel his own knot rubbing the Omega’s soft, warm walls. It was utterly, deliciously amazing and he began to pound his hips to meet his Omega's hips. He leaned over, feeling his hot body press to his Omega's. His Omega dug his fingernails into the thick cloth of John's jacket, then a hand came to his chest and clucthed at his wooly, and damp jumper. He stared down into those silvery eyes and began thrusting, harder, harder...

He groaned out and raked his fingers against the ground, before finally he came to rest one on a boney hip, clutching the dangerously protruding bone. He leaned down and bit once more over the spot he had previously left a mark on, he sunk his canines into the skin until he tasted blood, then licked it- the first part of the bonding was done.

He gripped the thick curls that adorned his beautiful Omega's head and dug his fingers in, yanking his Omega's head back. Biting and leaving marks wasn't neccessary, but John felt such dominanation and such possession. He wanted everyone to know this was his mate, his omega, and he would kill anyone who thought differently.

He felt hands beating at his shoulders and head, such small, delicate fists, and he grabbed them. He wrenched them open and kissed the palms, then gripped the wrists and held them down as he shoved in between those lucious, milky white thighs once more, just absolutley destroying what he wanted to claim as his.

He felt the pressure building up in his stomach, felt the moans beginning to spill from his throat. He gripped those frail wrists harder and began to move faster than he thought his nearly thirty year old body could do.

He bent back over his Omega and began to moan loudly.

"Yes, yes, oh, ohhh yes!" His knot finally slid all of the way inside of his Omega's hole and it stilled as he began to ejaculate. his back arched and he screamed in pure ectsasy. His Omega sounded like he was crying, and it forced John's attention away from his own pleasure, if only for a moment, to notice his mate had not orgasmed.

Without another thought, his hand wrapped around his Omega's slim cock and began pumping, delighting in the beautiful pale shaft that leaked all over his fingers. Faster and faster he worked them, until his

Omega was screaming and squirming, his limbs spasming out of control.

"No! NO! AH! Ahhh...Ah, y-yes...oh no...oh god...I can't..."

John felt his Omega release all over his fingers, and spasm out of control against John's own body and he prided in himself to bring his mate to such a lovely state of bliss.

He found himself hard once more, but quickly rode through it and with a few thrusts, he was orgasming inside of his mate once more with a scream, before he collapsed on top of the hot, pale body beneath him.

He blinked and was out.  
                                                                      

                                                                           ~

John blinked heavily, feeling the hazy cloud of grey around him fading, until finally he could see correctly. He looked up at the sky, blinking as his face was hit repeatedly with raindrops.

He was soaked to the bone, well his back was, and he felt a breeze in his nether regions. He was lying on the ground, which was surprisingly...

_soft?_

A single glance under him told him there was someone under him, and that he was partially naked.

He gasped and threw himself backwards, startling the lovely Omega under him. With a cry of pain, the Omega began to sob, tears rolling down his face, and John looked desperately for anything that he might've done to hurt him. The beautiful Omega began to squirm, wrestle himself from John's grip.

John hadn't even realized he was holding onto the small Omega, and let go of his wrists quickly, watching him pull them away was awful- they were stained purple with bruises already showing on the transparent skin. John swallowed thickly and tried to scoot away from the half naked Omega, but when he moved away, the Omega was dragged along. John watched him scream in pain and tried to shush him.

"Sh-shh, i-it'll be okay, i'll-i'll just-" He looked down, and felt his heart thump heavily. He was connected to the Omega by their genitals, and his knot was-

He felt like he was going to be sick.

I-I couldn't...I...

John lifted his shaking hands and covered his face, feeling tears prick behind his eyes. He was shocked.

He slowly lowered them and swallowed heavily at the dark bruise along the small Omega's throat.

Taking a moment, he studied the shocked Omega. They were both shocked, frozen, and all they both could do was stare at one another. John found himself lost for words to describe how...just how beautiful the Omega was. His high cheek bones created a long, and detailed, a unique look to him, and his silvery eyes topped it off. He was small, frail, an unhealthy looking, which began to frighten John. He was sure the Omega was aolder than sixteen, but definetly less than twenty. He could see every bone on his Omega's body, and was sure he weighed a litte less than six stones-

Wait.

This Omega was not his.

John's stomach flipped once more, and he found himself in a hurry to leave, to rush, and as soon as he grabbed his own prick and started pulling, the little Omega began to scream.

John felt goosebumps prickle his body.

"Shhh, i'm trying!" He pulled harder, and felt vomit rise up the back of his throat when blood began to seep out between the omega's thighs. The Omega's high pitched screams became louder and began to hurt John's ears.

"Stop! I'm trying!" He pleaded. The Omega covered his face and bawled.

"Please...st-stop...it hurts! It hurts me! Stop!" John shook his head- he knew how the bonding worked. If stayed in any longer...They would be mates for life.

John couldnt do that to this poor soul he had defiled, damaged and broke.

I am just like the world.

I am rotten.

With a wet pop, his knot came out and he quickly slid out and pushed himself away as the omega screamed harder. John saw apartments around him begin to turn on lights and he knew the other was drawing attention.

"Shhh, you-you have to stay quiet." The Omega froze when John spoke and then went still.

"P-please...i didn't mean...I didn't want this!" John cried. He felt tears on his face, warming his frozen, already wet cheeks. The Omega stayed quiet, except for small sobs and his body shaking.  
John stood, and glanced once more at the milky white boy, and then found himself dry heaving into the wall behind him, bile running up his troat and out his mouth onto the wet ground.

He turned back and wiped his mouth, then collapsed against the wall.

I don't know what to do.

If i take him to the hospital...I'll go to jail.

john blinked.

No the worse is they'll fire me....this happens all the time...no one says anything it seems.

John looked back at the boy, watched as the frail Omega pulled himself into a ball and desperately tried to pull his clothes back on.

No, that's wrong to think such a way...i would go to prison. i did a crime. i hurt him. I...

John lowered his head.

I'm a coward.

"Look, kid-" those haunted, distant eyes turned on him and John swallowed hard.

"D-don't tell anybody, okay?" He waited and watched as his beautiful Omega slowly nodded. John nodded, then took off, headed out of the alley, headed home. He couldn't stay there, he had to leave- get away.

As soon as he was inside his tiny flat, he grabbed everything he owned. He packed and then sat on his bed for what felt like hours, soaking the mattress.

He broke and began sobbing into his own hands.

What had he just done?

Alpha Scum.

 

                                                         ~

Sherlock didn't know where the men came from, but just knew they had been hurting him. Then the a tougher, older and much more bulkier Alpha came.

He smelt of something that Sherlock had never experienced before and knew he wanted him.

And the Alpha had obviously wanted him,too.  
But then the alpha came closer, and Sherlock tried, tried so hard to tell him no, because he did not belong to this Alpha, he was Jim's Omega. He tried to explain, but he hurt, his head throbbed in pain.

Then the Alpha was on him, and Sherlock felt so full, so much more filled than any other had made him, and it felt so good.

He remembered begging for it, then begging for him to get off.

His Omega genes were clashing with reality, were messing him up, what he wanted and didn't want and Sherlock hated it. He sobbed and beat at the Alpha, hoping to push him away, and then the blonde Alpha had held him down.

Once they were done, Sherlock couldn;t move. He didn't feel a thing, and he didn't want to.

_Is this what...being damaged feels like?_

Then the Alpha had the nerve to rip his own knot out, before it deflated.

Sherlock's backside and nether regions had never hurt so bad, he could pratically feel the sperm and blood gathering, pooling all over the ground and the cement. He began to sob, and tried to comply with what the Alpha wanted.

Time passed, and Sherlock found himself standing, standing on an empty sidewalk.

He looked around him and wondered how he had gotten....there....

Sherlock sniffled, then began to cry into his own hands.

How many years had it been since he had last cried?

Not since he was a small child could he remember crying, not in pain anyway.

_Not emotionally anyway._

_Did I deserve this?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock awakes and finally realizes how bonds work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I really apologize for not updating this story, I was REALLY busy and I just didn't have the inspiration to type...  
> Does anyone even read this anymore? Curious is all. I would really love to hear some criticism or your thoughts on this, so please comment! I would really enjoy it if you did.

When Sherlock woke, all he felt was the cold as it seeped into his bones, and filled with pain. He shifted, and whimpered, feeling his Omega curling inside of itself from the torture he endured. He sobbed gently, wondering where he was, and why he ached so much.

He blinked and looked up, but the only things above him was the grey, and thick stormy clouds above his head that dripped large droplets of water onto his pale skin, and the dark, greying buildings around him that had once been red, but had all but turned to nasty, soot covered brick from the amount of pollution in the air.

_Buildings. Built-1970’s time. Must be in an older part of London._

Sherlock slowly sits up, and then places his aching arms behind him when what little weight he has on his body is enough to make him feel weighed down and sluggish. He glances around, but his head is so heavy, he feels like falling asleep again.

_Must be a concussion._

Sherlock glances around, then ultimately decides to just use his other senses to figure out where he is.

_Seagulls are chattering- I must be near a dock. The air smells salty, acrid, of smog and cigarette smoke. Everything else I remember before added, I must be near some sort of factory and docking area of London._

Sherlock groans and then attempts to stand- several times in fact- before he finally stands up enough to be able to grab the wall. His knees shake as he does so, and it takes him a moment to notice the cold breeze around his thighs and legs. He inhales and closes his eyes.

_No.no.no.no._

He slowly lowers his eyes, running his vision down his body. He starts with the pale skin beneath his nose, focusing on the bumps of his collar bones, and then moves to his chest, passing over the tattered shirt that hides beneath his wimpy excuse for a coat. He slowly moves further, feeling his thin limbs shake as he finally comes to rest on the pale skin between his thighs. His pants have been ripped, shoved down past his knees, and his skin has been dotted with speckles of his own blood, and then a smear of semen that has slid out of him.

Sherlock turns his head to the side as he vomits, feeling what little food he has eaten travel up his throat, followed by a stream of burning stomach acid.

Sherlocks leans against the wall as he sobs.

_No…This…I…What is Jim going to do?_

The last thought makes him sick. Jim would no doubt throw him out onto the streets now, who has a use for a bonded Omega? Sherlock sniffles and feels a bubble of snot rolling down his face. He quickly wipes it away, then sighing. There was nothing to do but go home. What was done was done.

In this world, if you were an Omega and out on the streets defenseless when your heat hit, you never had many options except to live with what happened. To separate a bonded pair would do nothing but leave the Omega sick and frail, and the Alpha would probably turn violent and vengeful. Many Omegas who struggled during their rape were most likely killed.

Sherlock remembers the dark blue eyes that had been surrounded by blonde hair above him, remembered how his touches were soft and feathery at first, and then became rougher as time went on, but the touches had no meant to hurt him. It was their animalistic behavior.

Sherlock frowned at the thought.

Before he could continue it any further, he could hear Alphas growling, smelling _omega_ , smelling _heat_. He was prey, even bonded, and had to leave. If one were to be bonded and found by an Alpha that wasn’t his own, he could most likely be raped to death or killed in a psychotic rage.

He began to limp home, wishing he had money to get a cab, but he had no other choice.

Sherlock glanced up and down the streets before memerizing the way he had come and following it.

He hadn’t taken two steps onto the sidewalk when he cramped, feeling his chest tighten. Tears littered his eyes and he shrieked softly. Thoughts invaded his mind, feelings booming inside of him, things coming from his inner omega.

_Anger._

_Sadness._

_Need help. Need help._

Sherlock continued to walk on wobbly legs as his heart pounded, and his Omega was taking over, shrieking at him, his emotions controlling what he thought.

Something blossomed in his chest and he realized that the intense feelings he was getting wasn’t all his.

Some belonged to the Alpha.

_His Alpha now._

Sherlock continued to walk, desperate to make it home, even as the sky grew darker with night fall and a strong storm began to set in. Rain droplets hailed on him like bullets, chilling him to the bone, and Sherlock shivered as he walked.

He could feel the Alpha’s feelings being pushed through their bond. Sherlock could feel the invisible string now connecting the two of them, pushing and pulling, their bond being tugged. He felt sick and Sherlock had to resist the vomit that wanted to leave his throat. Sherlock wondered how couples could stand it, feeling everything their significant other was feeling, _knowing_ what they were thinking, having their thoughts mingle with yours.

Sherlock stopped after a few more minutes, not being able to walk any further. He leaned against a brick wall, feeling the warm brick scratch at his temple. He heaved and panted, his whole body trembling in pain. He ached inside and out, emotionally as well as physically. It was sickening and Sherlock wanted nothing more than a bath.

The water cooled him down somewhat and he felt his body increase in tremors, shaking terribly. His bones ached and he could feel a fever heating up his body.

Emotions flooded his brain and he whimpered. He couldn’t deal with this.

_Self._

_Angry._

Sherlock pressed his palms over his ears and sobbed openly, not caring who saw the sobs escaping his mouth as he tried to shield himself from the emotions he felt his Alpha feeling.

He felt warm hands roughly grab him and lead him away and he tensed up.

He felt a response through his bond.

_Must find. Danger. Save Omega._

But Sherlock relaxed into the touch when he smelt the regular cologne and recognized it as Sebastian’s scent, his Beta smell penetrating his nose.

He couldn’t control the bond as his inner Omega reassured his Alpha that he was NOT in danger.

He turned to Sebastian, seeing the gruff Beta holding his shoulders as he lead him through the thick rain, to a waiting car. Sherlock sniffled as he pulled himself into the car and shivered against the quickly dampening seats.

Sebastian climbed in after and shut the door with a heavy slam, then the car was pulled away from the curb and Sherlock felt them speed off into the rain. He swallowed heavily and laid against the seats.

Sherlock stiffened at the emotions he felt.

Sherlock rolled over, and tried his best to block everything, including his newfound Alpha, out.

**XXXXXX**

Sherlock was immediately huddled in from the rain, but once inside, a ring of black formed around his eyes and he hadn’t even realized he had fainted until Sebastian set him down inside the penthouse of Jim Moriarty. Sherlock was lowered down gently, Sebastian’s hands under his thin arms. He was lowered softly onto his knees, since he couldn’t hold himself up, and he sunk into the plush carpet.

His heavy, wet clothes were being tugged from his body and he began to panic, and with every emotion sent out, one from his Alpha was returned.

**_Danger?_ **

**_Omega needs help._ **

Sherlock knew he shouldn’t panic, but his mind was racing a million times a minute, and even though he knew the hands on his shoulders were Sebastian’s he knew h shouldn’t feel terrified, but he did. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as the sopping wet clothes slid from his shoulders, and onto a pile on the floor.

_Fine. Safe. Familiar._

**_Alpha wants Omega._ **

Sherlock felt himself being swaddled in a large blanket, but after that, he couldn’t quite remember much, except for Sebastian muttering to himself.

“anything for bloody Sherlock Holmes…”

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

The sound of a door being slammed shut woke Sherlock, and he bolted upright, feeling every hair along his neck and arms raise. He held the thick blanket around himself, feeling a slight chill, but ignored it as Jim walked into the room.

A fire crackled in the fireplace, warming the room and giving it a dim light, and Jim walked over to stand in front of him. Sherlock couldn’t look up at him, couldn’t seem to look anywhere but the toes of Jim’s expensive leather Italian shoes.

“So, care to explain why I had to send Sebby out in the rain to get my pet? He could’ve gotten sick, you know.” Jim said in a playful voice, but Sherlock could hear the venom behind it, and he started to shake. He could feel Jim’s eyes on him, and he wanted nothing more to be sick. He gently raised his head, but looked no further than Jim’s ankles before lowering it again, his thick, chocolate curls hanging over his eyes.

He heard Jim hiss at Seb to leave, and once the Beta was out of sight, Jim crouched to Sherlock’s level, and grabbed his chin and cheeks, digging his fingertips in and yanking the frail omega’s head up to look at him.

Sherlock gasped, and pain blossomed in his cheeks.

**_Omega is hurt. Must help._ **

_Go away._

Sherlock’s eyes filled with tears at the last command of his Alpha, but he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take this, any of it. He tried so hard not to, but he began to cry in front of Jim. Tears slid in fast, hot trails down his cheeks.

“You know, I shouldn’t have to send out pretty cars to pick up my pets. I don’t think they deserve that right. You’re lucky I like you so much, Sherly.” Jim frowned as he watched tears slide down Sherlock’s face and drip onto his fingers that were still holding Sherlock’s head. The eyes of the little Omega wouldn’t look at him, and he didn’t like that.

“What’s the matter? Why are you crying, love?” Jim pulled Sherlock closer by the face, squeezing his cheeks.

“Oh, is Daddy hurting you?” He cooed. Sherlock nodded, and Jim let go after a moment’s hesitation. He stood once more and began to walk in a slow circle around Sherlock, watching the small Omega shake in fear. Sherlock cried silently, letting his tears fall.

_Alpha, want Alpha._

No, no he didn’t. His Alpha hurt him. His Alpha was not bonded by anything but violence and Sherlock quickly shook his head, but he didn’t hear any thoughts, he didn’t feel anything radiate back through him, and the bond was quiet.

Sherlock opened his eyes and exhaled with a small pant, feeling a large weight lift off his chest. He couldn’t understand why the bond didn’t work, but he didn’t care. He was freed from the back and forth voices and emotions that he would be stuck with for the rest of his life, if only it was just for now, he welcomed it.

Jim watched Sherlock, watching his behavior, watching the omega shake, and his head bobbed, he watched as Sherlock went from tense, to crying, to panic and now he was quiet, but as he stepped back in front of him again, he could see a small smile on his face.

He crouched again and grabbed Sherlock once more, but Sherlock’s eyes dropped again and he looked away.

“Tell me, pet, what’s running through your mind right now?” He chuckled, but stopped short as Sherlock’s eyes raised to meet his.

Sherlock watched Jim freeze, and then frown. He was pulled close, and Jim sniffed. Yanked closer, and sniffed again. Then, once more he was pulled even closer, to the point where Jim’s nose was buried in his neck, and he could feel the itching, tense feeling bubbling up again.

_Not my Alpha, not my Alpha, Not my Alpha-_

Jim took a deep whiff and Sherlock felt his hair raise. Panic was bubbling in his chest and he finally moved for the first time since he had been brought home. He shoved Jim away and threw himself backwards, scooting until he was pressed against the wall.

“NO! NO,NO,NO!” Sherlock screamed. He clutched the blanket around him and curled into it as Jim growled and stood quickly, his Alpha bubbling under the surface, his arms raised, teeth bared, and eyes narrowed to slits.

“You’re _bonded._ ” Sherlock put his face in his hands and began to sob.

“I d-didn’t-!” But Jim cut him off.

 _“You disgusting, filthy, piece of shit,_ _whore!_ ” Jim ran forward and grabbed Sherlock, who was full out screaming and sobbing in panic, his Omega taken over him as Jim dragged him from the room. Sherlock struggled, but Jim had the upper hand as he grabbed the blanket Sherlock had cocooned himself in and dragged. He dragged him out into the main sitting room, where Sebastian was sitting. The sniper watched the two fight and snarl, and Sherlock cry as Jim forced him into the room and yanked the blanket off, leaving him naked.

Sherlock screamed at his nakedness, feeling so…so… _vulnerable._

“No!”

“I can just barely smell it, but it’s there! You’re bonded, you slut!” Jim grabbed Sherlock by the hair and Sherlock cried out as the Alpha began to reign his anger and terror down over him. Sherlock had been beaten by Jim before, but never as badly as this. Sherlock scratched at Jim’s hands as he beat him, clutching his hair in one grasp as he used his other to mercilessly hit Sherlock. Sherlock could feel the warm blood running down his face as Jim struck him time after time, then finally he picked Sherlock up and threw him down with force.

Sherlock laid there, inhaling painfully and exhaling with small, sob-filled gasps, while Jim stood over him, panting out of exhilaration.

_Pain. Hurt. Bad._

Sherlock felt the blood bubble up and burst in small bubbles as it ran from his nose and mouth. He coughed and hiccupped as he laid there. He felt a sharp tug through his bond.

**_Omega. Mistake. Guilt._ **

Sherlock sobbed a little more, and for the first time since his childhood, he felt more alone than ever.

Sherlock gasped gently at the sudden blossom of strength and emotion in his chest, accepting it from his unknown significant other.

Sherlock whimpered as he started to feel the chemical release inside of his body that came from his Alpha’s emotions- as much as he hated the other, he thanked them for this, for helping, but then he remembered he wouldn’t have needed it if they had left him alone.

He came back as Jim hunched over him.

 _“Poor pet. Taken by some_ dirty _Alpha. I see what happened now, sweetie.”_ Jim cooed. Sherlock whimpered again, wanting nothing more than to sleep, but instead, his naked, dead weight was lifted off the ground and coddled. Jim hugged him and rocked him back and forth as Sebastian watched, sending jealous glances towards Sherlock every now and then, but Sherlock could see the lonesomeness and pain behind all of that. He sobbed softly now, his cries returning to ones of just emotional, raw pain. He’d never felt so open, vulnerable, or dirty. His mouth and chest ached worse than the rest of his body, all he wanted to do was shout, scream bloody murder for how the world was.

It just wasn’t fair, and people like Sherlock and Sebastian had to learn that.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

After John had rushed away and hurried from his own home, he was able to stay the night in a hotel and found a flat early the next morning to move into.

But the whole day, his head pounded with thoughts that he knew weren’t his. The emotions that were traveling back and forth between the two were uncontrollable now that they were apart, and John could feel the tug of their bond, even as faint as it was. He didn’t know what to do, but kept responding with nothing but the truth- he was guilty. He truly was. He felt sick (he’d thrown up several times and couldn’t eat right for a week afterwards) He felt dirty in his own skin (rubbing it raw and red in the shower sometimes) he felt like an animal (he woke up on the floor instead of his bed a few times, and he deserved it for being the bastard he was.)

He knew his only tie to this Omega was what he had done, but he couldn’t help his feelings. The love that blossomed from him and was sent through the bond was nothing but mere chemicals in his brain convincing him he was in love with the poor soul that had fallen victim to his heinous crime, but he still couldn’t help himself- it was _his_ Omega now. He should’ve been taking care of him, but instead they could now never be together.

John had curled in on himself at that point and continued to brood and feel guilt, until he felt his Omega’s danger. He was nearly out in a cab to go find his Omega when he was told his Omega was fine. He gave a sigh of relief and had trotted back inside the hotel with a huff.

He didn’t want this. He just didn’t. He knew, without his Omega, he would eventually turn violent, and lash out for his inner Alpha would be brimming the surface at all times, for his Omega was not there to soothe him, to scent him, or to help make love that would make his Alpha calm.

The only thing he could do was ridicule himself for being a righteous idiot and doing what he had done, and living alone as his punishment.

When he was awoken in the middle of the night because he felt the sharp pain radiating through him that his Omega was experiencing, he had leapt from bed once more, and torn the place apart before he calmed down enough to try and help soothe his Omega enough to give him strength. He only hoped for the best for his Omega right now, and what he did would help.

When John was finally cut off, pushed out and the bond was silenced more again that night was the only time he could actually fall back asleep without his Alpha disturbing him again.

John laid in his torn bed and stared out the window at the stormy skies. He tried to silence his quivering, disturbed thoughts, and sleep, but he knew he wouldn’t get any that night.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock has discovered something incredibly impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating, I haven't had time. School is a bitch.

Sherlock had scrubbed himself down as much as he could in his small little bath before the water had run cold. His skin was red and blistered from the boiling water and scrubbing with a rough washcloth hadn’t helped matters, but he did it because he was disgusted. He felt grimy.

He finally left the shower when he started to shiver under the cold spray and wrapped a towel around his skinny body. He dried himself off before venturing off into his bedroom, trying to find something to wear, but everything he put on he immediately took off.

_It’s my omega telling me no.  My Alpha must be dominating if he wants me naked all the time…_

Sherlock finally draped himself in his dress gown and threw his limp body to the couch with a sniff. Now that…this happened, he knew Jim would soon kick him out, leave him out on the streets since he couldn’t earn upkeep for the man.

Sherlock sniffed, and then let out a small sob. He ran his hands up and down his body, trying to warm his aching bones, but stopped when he felt something stir, not just in his body, but in his damn biology.

He rolled onto his back and looked down at his naked body, then ran a hand down to his belly.

He bit his tongue instead of crying out when he could feel _it_ in him. It was there, without a doubt, and there wasn’t anything he could do about the fertilized egg inside of his body.

Sherlock was _pregnant_ , and with a wet gasp, he leaned over the side of the couch and hurled.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

John felt sick, and he hurried into an alleyway on his way to work before he threw up, which he gratefully didn’t. He sighed and rubbed his temple, wondering what was.

He wouldn’t question it, but it was his bond.

He closed off his end of the bond as much as he could before hurrying the rest of the way to work.

Sarah barely glanced at him, but when she did, it was with a worry filled look.

John shook his head at her and hurried into his office.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Sherlock lay still for several hours after the discovery of his baby and wondered how it had happened.

He had heard of people getting pregnant, Betas really, they didn’t have the complex biology he had, when they were…hurt.

Sherlock could barely _think_ that word right now.

But when Omegas were raped, the case was they got pregnant but merely miscarried an hour or two later. The bond wasn’t strong enough for the eggs to be fertilized right and just died, so really there wasn’t such things as rape babies among the Alpha and Omega communities.

Sherlock rubbed his belly, and let his biology tell him his egg had been fertilized for somewhere between eight to ten hours long. Sherlock wondered how his egg had suffered so much physical harm and still clung on.

He felt sick again, but didn’t move from his spot on the couch.

He heard the sounds of the house filling up with clients, them mingling and talking as they waited outside their regular rooms, but Sherlock’s clients were probably being hushed away with excuses of his stomach being upset, or him being out tonight. He was suddenly thankful Jim hadn’t made him work tonight.

Sherlock rolled over on the couch, facing the door this time. He watched as shadows passed from time to time along the walls, possibly his clients that were being excused for his absence, or other lingering clients who wanted nothing more than a quick fuck.  He reached out from his spot on the couch and tapped the door shut then rolled over to try and leave himself alone.

He felt disgusted in his own body and he knew now that the bond was made, even the terrible dark recesses of his mind could not be reached without his mate disturbing him and rousing him from his subconscious. He sniffed when he felt the presence of another, but instead he tried to block out his bond. The tension grew and he gave himself a headache as music and the voices in the house grew to a loud distant hum.

Then it was quiet, and Sherlock opened his eyes.

It was darker inside his flat and he realized he must’ve passed out, for the house was much quieter, but still tilting to the sound of voices and the squeaking of beds.

Sherlock heard footsteps that were slowly ascending to his level and climbing to his flat, but he didn’t move, not even when the door was opened and shut behind the other. Sherlock faced the couch and listened to the small squeak of his armchair as a large form sat in it.

“Raped, huh?” Sherlock stiffened at the sentence that came out from the raspy, baritone voice that belonged to Sebastian.

“Took you long enough to figure that one out.” Sherlock replied with a hoarse whisper. He didn’t have time to react as Sebastian stood and grabbed his shoulder roughly, spinning him over and straddling him. Sherlock felt the hairs on the back of his neck and arms rise and he panicked, feeling his heart leap in his chest. Sebastian forced his wrists down, and balancing his weight on Sherlock helped him keep the Omega down. Sherlock whimpered.

“Se-Sebastian, no, no please don’t-“ He whimpered quickly. Sebastian squeezed his wrists and Sherlock whimpered in pain as Sebastian dug his fingers around the same bruises he had obtained from his Alpha. He felt his Omega creeping around the corners of his mind.

_Not right. Danger. Danger. Not right. Not him. Not Alpha. Beta. Beta. Protect. Baby._

“I’m not gonna touch ya, freak. Calm your shit.” Sebastian hissed out, squeezing his wrists again. Sherlock whimpered once more, but tried to keep his mouth shut. He had enough with being struck because of his own thoughts. Sebastian laughed down at him, and Sherlock flinched as spittle hit his face in small sprays.

“Oh, I just love this. I love the fact you aren’t useful to him anymore. I love the thought of him finally kicking your ass to the curb, and never seeing you again. It will be such a pleasure.”

Something inside Sherlock snapped, and his Omega receded.

“Why? So, maybe Jim will finally pay attention to your snotty Beta ass? Not a chance. He much prefers the pheromones from an Omega, you know, someone who can actually _please_ him.” Sherlock sneered. Sebastian’s teeth grinded together and his glare became murderous.

“You fuckin’ bitch.”

Sherlock spat on his face and ended with Sebastian punching him. He felt the twinge of pain travel through his skin, and tingle against his bone. He felt it begin to swell underneath his eye the second Sebastian’s fist left face, but it gave him an advantage, since Sebastian had to let go to hit him, his hand was free. Quickly, he used it to throw Sebastian off of him and onto the floor, then scrambled to the other side of his living room. Sebastian stood quickly, and glared at Sherlock.

“You’ll pay for that!” He charged and Sherlock had no time to react or think as Sebastian barreled into him. They clawed and swiped at each other as their bodies continued to hit the wall.

“You little bitch! I’ll kill you!” Sebastain growled. Sherlock cried out as Sebastian grabbed him too tight around his waist and squeezed.

“Stop, stop!” Sherlock shrieked, feeling his brain cells expand, and his Omega forcefully pull him. He scrambled out of Sebastian’s grasp to get away, his only instinct at that moment being to run, to protect his child.

Sebastian glared down at Sherlock, panting with extertion, and he attacked Sherlock, pouncing once more onto the scrawny Omega. Sherlock screamed.

“Get off!”

“NO!” Sebastian bit down onto Sherlock’s neck, after spotting the dark black bruise that had blossomed over the Omega’s skin. What he didn’t know was that bruise was the bond mark between Sherlock and John, and Sherlock was screaming in pain.

**_*on the other side of London.*_ **

John had walked into his office after clinic duty and sat down, rubbing his hurting leg. He was tired, and his head hurt from blocking his bond for so long.

He began to scream in pain as a throbbing in his neck blossomed and he clutched his gland that began to swell. He began to convulse and eventually fell to the floor in pain.

**_*At Sherlock’s flat*_ **

Sherlock struggled under Sebastian as the Beta bit, and crunched his teeth into Sherlock’s neck. It was painful and his Omega was screaming for his Alpha, but the bond was blocked, which Sherlock was thankful for in the back of his mind.

Sebastian grinned to himself as he held Sherlock down, the tang of blood reaching his nose and iron filling his mouth from the bite. Now despite being a Beta, he was one of several that could barely detect hormone changes and scents in Omegas and Alphas, and the blood that hit his nose made his eyes water as he flung himself backwards, off of Sherlock in shock.

Sherlock lay on the floor, panting, his body raw in pain and glistening with sweat. He couldn’t move, because he knew the moment he did, he would be sobbing from the pain and shock of how surreal it had all become.

Sebastian stood angrily and wiped his mouth , spitting out Sherlock’s tainted blood.

“I can’t believe it. You fuckin’ whore Omega.” Sherlock gently lifted his head and looked at Sebastian as he backed out of the room.

“You’re _pregnant._ I’m not stupid, I know how your biology works. _Whore._ ” He quickly left, and Sherlock laid there, his back pressed to the cold floor of his flat. He knew he was in shock, he knew he was slipping into a catatonic state, but there was nothing else to do now.

He blinked and let the numbness overcome him.

**_XXXX_ **

Sherlock woke up two days later from his shocked state of mind because of morning sickness. He had vaulted across the room and darted into the bathroom, heaving nothing but stomach bile and acid. It burned his throat and he forced his mouth under his faucet and scooped as much water as he could get into it at once. With a swish and swallow his throat stopped aching and he felt relieved as he slid down the side of the counter, settling with his back to the wall. He stared down at his belly, still flat, but he knew he would be showing soon.

“You cause so much trouble.” He whispered.

**_XXXXX_ **

Sherlock’s days went by without incident. It seemed Moran hadn’t told Jim about Sherlock’s surreal pregnancy, but did inform him of the physical row they had shared, for Sherlock had heard them above him in their penthouse screaming at one another. He heard his name be mentioned several times, before it ended with a quick thud that Sherlock had just assumed was Sebastian being hit by his husband.

Sherlock saw the bruise on his face the next day, and wondered if he should feel remorse for the poor beta that had been pulled into his useless marriage.

Sherlock had laid in bed for the next few days, to weary to move, nursing his wounds in bed, and too disgusted with himself to show his face. He constantly beat himself up about the incident, his thoughts parading around it.

He found himself in front of the toilet a few days later, once his bruises started to fade and he could walk without limping.

He hadn’t realized Jim was behind him, watching, chuckling with arms crossed. Sherlock prickled with goosebumps when he turned and saw him.

“So what is it, withdrawal or the fact your own body disgusts you now?” Jim whispered quietly. Sherlock shivered at the icy, leery tone in Jim’s voice and tried to stand and walk past him through the small doorframe, but the Alpha grabbed Sherlock’s arm with a vicious strength and yanked him close. Sherlock could feel his heart rate begin to speed up, and he choked back a cry. He tried to pull his arm from Jim’s grip, only to be pushed further into the bathroom, with Jim leaning close. Sherlock could feel every nerve is his body screaming at him to pull away, because this was _not_ his Alpha, and nor had his Alpha given this one permission to touch him. Jim’s grip on Sherlock’s arm tightened ever so harder, and Sherlock found pain radiating through his entire arm and into his shoulder as Jim bent the skinny limb in an impossible direction. Sherlock slid to his knees in pain, gritting his teeth and trying to pull Jim’s fingers off.

“Where do you think you’re going, _Omega?_ I am speaking to you!” Jim hissed. Sherlock whimpered as tears sprung to his eyes and made his vision blurry.

“Y-you are n-not my Alpha.” Sherlock cried out as Jim twisted his arm behind his abck and forced him to the ground.

“You don’t get it do you? Just because a dirty Alpha out there got hung up on your whore pheromones and knotted you doesn’t make you any less mine.” Jim let go and pushed Sherlock down. Sherlock gave a cry of relief and his tears slid off his face. He rubbed his tingling arm and rolled over to look up at Jim, who was staring down with a very predator like glare. Sherlock sniffed and rubbed his nose.

“You know biology just as well as anyone else does, Jim.  I cannot have more than one Alpha,  I am stuck with the one that took me for life. I wasn’t on suppressants, nor did we have a condom. As…as much I hate to admit it, my biology won’t let me choose anyone else.” Jim’s glare tightened and Sherlock could feel panic rising in his chest. Suddenly, Jim grabbed the front of Sherlock’s shirt and yanked him to his feet, where he balanced unsteadily.

Jim bit down on Sherlock’s mark and scent glands, listening to him screech in pain. Sherlock could feel the burning in all of his nerves and writhed in Jim’s arms. Tears flooded his face, because all Sherlock could think was the panicked thoughts of an Omega who had just been raped and now was being hurt by another Alpha. He moaned in pain when Jim finally let him go and he slipped to his knees.

“That’ll leave my scent on you for a while. In case he tries to come back. The bond between you two will weaken, but just enough.”

He turned to depart, leaving Sherlock clutching his neck with tears rolling down his face, before he stopped and turned around.

“I am leaving for a business trip.  I will be gone for a while, so Sebastian will be watching you. After this trip is successful, I want to try and get you pregnant. I feel that I won’t need much after this settlement, and I would love to know I have an heir to my metaphorical throne.”  Jim smiled that leery smiled, the one that danced across his face and didn’t match the madness in his eyes.

Sherlock’s eyes grew wide and his stomach churned. Jim smelt his fingers and  swiped his tongue across his lips, like a reptile, before frowning.

“Odd. You smell different.”

Sherlock watched him shrug it off, and once he heard Jim’s footsteps descend the stairs, he found himself back to clutching the bowl of the toilet as he vomited.


	5. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How is John handling his side of the bond?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might take me some time to update this every now and then, but no this story isn't abandoned. I promise.

John groaned in pain as he sat up in bed, and then shouted as the pain in his neck bloomed.

He grabbed the skin where it was but he knew nothing would be there, just like nothing had been there the last few times he had felt that pain. The pain wasn’t even on his own skin- it was blossoming under skin, bruising it and making it even worse. Despite his bond being shut between his Omega and his own Alpha, he could still feel small twinges of pain every where, especially on his scent glands. It drove him to the brink of anger, and he wanted nothing more than to figure out who was biting _his_ Omega.

Well, that was last night.

John had gone to bed that night with the revelation that he should leave it alone, because there wouldn’t be anything he could do about it anyhow.

John waited until the pain under his skin making his neck throb stopped before he slid out of bed with a groan. He was very sore, for no reason, but he knew it was the same thing happening in his neck.

He ignored it and instead stretched before heading for his shower.

**_XXXXXX_ **

John left his cane at home today, noticing he last few days he hadn’t needed it so often, before heading out. Despite the skies still being grey, the day was warm and John felt content on walking to work instead of a cab. He strutted into work, fifteen minutes early, and with a warm coffee in hand from the latte shop he always wanted to go in, but never had a chance.

John wondered what made his day so happy, and why he felt so light, but he didn’t pay attention to it, just blamed it on good vibes for the day.

He rubbed his neck when he felt it beginning to ache slightly, and groaned when he hit a tender spot.

“Hey, John! John!” He stopped and turned as Mike Stamford came hustling up to him, a big smile on the larger man’s face.

“Oh hullo, Mike.” John smiled.

“’Ello, Johnny-boy! How’ve you been?” Mike grasped John’s hands as they made their way into John’s office.

“Uh, fine, fine. Work, and such, you know how it is.”

“Oh, yes I do. Busy as all out, but uh, listen John, since it’s been a slow week, I was wondering if you wanted to come out to a pub with a couple of friends of mine tonight, possibly play a nice round of poker.” John chuckled, wondering where all the good moods were coming from today.

“Eh, yeah, I’ll see if I’m free tonight.” John nodded and smiled, then turned to unlock his office, and he heard Mike give a low whistle.

“Ah, I see, _free_ , huh mate?” John turned to Mike quickly, feeling his cheeks filling with heat and turning red. Mike was chuckling and John could see him staring at his neck.

“Finally found yourself an omega, huh, mate? Good for you!” John shook his head.

“N-no, wait it isn’t like that, Mike.” Mike clapped him on the shoulder, and John forced a calm look on his face instead of flinching in pain.

“Awh, come on, John, you don’t have to be like that! Come up off of it! I can see you’ve been marked!” John felt panic rising in his chest as he hurried into his office and Mike came in after him, shutting the door slightly.

“Mike, listen I can’t talk about-“

“Awh, come on, John! You’ve met my Omega, at least give me your’s name.” John blushed and found he couldn’t make eye contact with Mike.

“I…don’t know their name.” he said quietly. Mike’s cheerful smile dropped.

“What was that, John?” John set his coffee down, feeling his hands tremble as he rubbed them together.

“Mike, I don’t know who my Omega is.” He turned to see the larger man slowly taking in all of the information, then giving John a drop dead look.

“Wait a moment, wait, you do _not_ know who your Omega is.” John felt a fist twisting in his gut as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, Mike. I…um.”

“Um? Um is all you have to say?” Mike stepped closer to John’s desk, and John was suddenly thankful for the large oak desk between the two.

“John…did you…did you force yourself onto an Omega?” John turned away, not being able to stand the eye contact anymore, and it was the only thing he had to do to confirm Mike’s question.

“Oh my g- _jesus Christ John!_ How could you just rape an innoncent Omega?!”

“Shhh!” John hushed him quickly and ran to shut the door behind Mike before turning to him, feeling panic rising in his chest.

“John!”

“Mike, it’s not like I planned to do it!”

“That doesn’t make a difference! You bonded under false pretenses!”

“Yeah, well do you think I like this situation? I was walking home and I just _smelt_ it, okay? They were in heat, and they were being attacked. All I could do was try to help, and I tried my hardest to walk away but…I don’t remember after that. My Alpha took over before I could tell myself no.”

Mike ran a hand through his hair.

“Jesus, John. Do you realize what could happen if anyone found out what you did? Bloody Hell, was the poor thing even legal?” Mike looked to John for an explanation but John opened and shut his mouth several times before he curled in on himself and shrugged.

“I don’t know, mike. I really don’t know. I barely saw the poor thing before I ran off.”

“And to leave it all alone. You bastard.” John felt himself grow angry and he turned to Mike.

“Yeah, well it isn’t like I wanted to do it, alright?! And besides how is it my fault? The damn thing went out into public while in the middle of a heat, so how am Ito blame?! I am not at fault here, Mike. Besides, what does it matter? They don’t even have a law saying anything against forcefully taking an Omega against their will. There’s nothing about it, nothing, zilch, nada, alright? It’s done and over with.” John let out a small huff as he finished his rant and watched Mike with his stoney face.

“Alright, John. If that’s what you think. I’m not going to say anything, but, all I can say is Karma is a bitch and it’ll come back around to swipe you in the ass one day.” Mike said quietly before turning to leave.

John felt a twinge of pain in his gut and knew this time, it wasn’t from the other end of his bond.

**_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_ **

Sherlock groaned and tried to shake his head back and forth to push Sebastian off of him, but Sebastian had tied his hands behind his back and straddled the young Omega, and started shoving a cloth in face that was filled with Alpha pheromones that _weren’t_ his own Alphas.

“Come on, bitch, smell it.” Sebastian laughed. Sherlock glared at him as Sebastian continued to stuff the cloth into his face, knowing Sherlock could not protest against Jim’s orders. Once Sebastian let up a little, Sherlock took a deep inhale and coughed.

“How does rubbing Jim’s dirty clothes into my face have anything to do with this?!” Sebastian laughed and stepped back.

“I don’t know, he said do it, so I might as well. When he figures out your pregnant with a pup that isn’t his, he’ll be driven to kick you out.” Sherlock glared at Sebastian and leaned as far as he could from the beta.

“Admit it,Seb. You’re just pissed off because Jim would rather have me instead of a useless beta like you. You’re just doing this to ignore the emotional pain of him never being able to love you back.” Sherlock hissed at Seb. He watched the beta’s face freeze and then furrow into an angry, venomous look. He strode towards Sherlock, who squirmed but realized he was defenseless. He couldn’t pull his hands out of the zip tie behind his back, so instead Sebastian was able to punch him a few times, panting angrily as he did so, heaving with hatred. Then he yanked Sherlock to his feet, stretching the Omega from the chair he was still tied up on.

“I just don’t get it! What does he see in you besides a damn womb?! If he wanted a baby, he could’ve had one so long ago and then just kill the damn Omega! You aren’t special, Holmes, so don’t be strutting around like you are.” Sherlock could feel the blood from his nose running in a trickle down his face, and he pulled a smug like grin.

“Face it, I’m just his equal, Seb. You were nothing more than a mistake.” Sebastian threw him down harshly into his chair and growled. He walked behind Sherlock and cut the zip tie, then shoved him to the floor. Sherlock caught himself with his hands and hissed as pain shot up his boney arms before glancing back at Seb. Seb glared at him as he slowly made his way to the door.

“Just be glad I don’t cut that pup out of you with my favorite hunting knife.” Seb hissed, before he slammed the door shut. Sherlock listened as he clomped down the stairs, then immeidatley threw himself into a corner. He curled into a small ball, huddled alone and began to sob. He pressed his face into his knees and let his cold tears dampen them.

**_XXXXXX_ **

Sherlock woke a few hours later, feeling sore and stressed from sleeping on the ground. He could feel himself begin to shake, though he tried to stop it.

He had kicked his cocaine addiction the day after he had found out about the baby, just in case he decided to keep it.

Sherlock stood with a sigh and limped to his room, where he curled back up on the bed. He nibbled his bottom lip in thought. He hadn’t given anything much time. He’d been in and out of consciousness between the beatings from Seb and puking from emotional distress. He ran a hand down his face and found the crusty blood under his nose.

Depsite not knowing what to do with the baby just yet, Sherlock’s inner Omega was forcing his maternal instincts to appear, and he found himself moving towards the bathroom, deeming it necessary to take a shower and keep himself healthy. He let the hot water exfoliate his skin before it turned cold and he started to shake under its spray. He dressed himself warmly after drying off and contemplated taking a walk. He needed to stretch and get out of the stuffy flat, otherwise his Omega would begin to lose its mind.

Sherlock swept on a coat and some shoes before venturing down the stairs cautiously. Sherlock was not a stranger to everyone in the building, but he wasn’t liked and no one communicated with him much, plus he was watching out for Seb.

Jim had been gone for a little over a week, and Sherlock knew that he was definetly pregnant by now, he could feel the fertilized egg beginning to grow inside of him, nestled deep in his womb.

Sherlock opened the door quietly and slipped out into the cool, crisp night, letting the wind blow over his skin. It was still close to summertime, only being around the beginning of April.

Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing the space between them as he began walking along the dim streets.

If he was correct, the baby would be due in late December.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling a slight chill that wasn’t’ caused by the wind as someone passed him. He was a pregnant Omega, he should’ve been staying home where it was safe and warm and where his Alpha was supposed to be, but instead he was here, trying to force himself back into society, back into public, back into his surroundings. He hung his head and craved the nicotine from a cigarette.

He hadn’t expected the black town car to pull up next to him and the door to open.

Sherlock stared at the car in disbelief, then climbed in after a moment of hesitation.

He settled against the leather seat and wrapped his coat tightly around himself before turning and giving a grim smile.

“Hello, brother.”

Mycroft gave a small smirk.

“Sherlock. How nice to see you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets a visit from Mycroft; hidden feelings are brought up. John experiences more of his Omega's emotions through the bond. Jim returns home with surprising news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my readers! I'm sorry for not updating this at all. I will try to be better at that. I hope this chapter makes up for that.

 

Sherlock settled into the posh leather seat of the limo and crossed his legs with a small huff. He puffed out his chest to appear bigger, but to any alpha around him it would appear as if he were insulting their demeanor and attitude.

“Hello, brother dear.” Mycroft smiled at him from across the limo, but Sherlock sneered.

“Why are you here, you oaf?” Mycroft’s smile tightened at his brother’s insult.

“I am here, because I care about my brother enough to check up on him.” He glanced Sherlock up and down and tsked at his brother’s outward appearance.

Sherlock scoffed at the insinuation and wrapped his robe tighter around him.

“Like you ever bothered to show feelings for another family member.” Sherlock hissed out. Mycroft sighed and tapped the handle of his umbrella in thought.

“Sherlock, you know it’s been nearly two years since you and I have spoken. You know mummy is worried, and so is father. We are _all_ worried about you, I can guarantee you that.” Mycroft watched his younger brother shift uncomfortably against the seat and inspected closer. His skin was quite flush and he watched his younger brother’s eye twitch softly, then he rubbed the temple near the skin.

Sherlock stretched. No emotion, but a flicker of pain in the way he moved his body.

_Back pain. Robe is tighter around the stomach than the ribs, yet he is not even a hundred and fifteen pounds, too skinny for much else besides-_

“I don’t quite believe just that, Mycroft. You’re here for something else.” Sherlock glanced out the window as his brother continued to focus on him with cold, steely eyes.  Mycroft said nothing, wanting to piece together what was wrong with his brother before much else was passed between the two. Mycroft knew Sherlock was convinced his older brother knew nothing of him or his life, when in fact Mycroft knew the most anybody could about Sherlock.

Until Sherlock sneezed.

The omegan scent that wafted towards him made him shiver, made his stomach burn with foreign desire that stirred the beginnings of something hot in his groin,than fade it away with the almost scent of _taken_ , but it was very light. Mycroft blinked and then inhaled purposely and blinked, feeling his stomach drop. A terrible feeling went down his spine, but he kept his stance, instead of making one so vulnerable to his brother that he would know from the simple gesture. But Mycroft could not stop himself as he clenched his umbrella.

“You’re pregnant.” Sherlock’s head snapped towards him, his eyes hard, like vaults hiding something that not even someone like Mycroft could decipher. Mycroft was shocked that Sherlock did not react with an outburst of rage, not like when Mycroft made a point to tell their parents Sherlock had presented as an Omega at thirteen, despite his younger brother begging him not to tell.

Instead, Sherlock’s eyes turned to slits and he leaned into the leather of the fine upholstery and crossed his arms in a protective manner over himself.

“and what if I am?” Mycroft felt something inside  him shake.

“You are not bonded. You cannot be. It is simply most impossible.” Sherlock tsked and glanced out the tinted window as a tall man strolled by. Mycroft gave him no mind.

“How would you know?” Sherlock hissed, before turning to stare back at Mycroft with some sort of dominant form, pratically begging for his brother to bite back at him with a steely response.

Mycroft inhaled before continuing.

“You have no bond mark, Sherlock. Even if it was not on your neck, which is quite rare, your glands are not raised, nor are they fuming this vehicle with an _‘I am taken’_ pheromone. Sherlock, you are not bonded, how on Earth could you be pregnant?” Sherlock blinked and turned away, and Mycroft watched his hands fold together. He was nearly tempted to hit his younger brother with the tip of his umbrella.

“Sherlock, do not block me out.  I came here because many Omegas were killed in this vicinity between the time of last week to back to almost five months ago.  I hadn’t seen you in a few days on any of the CCTV’s around and I was worried. I know have every other reason to worry. You and I both know how our biology works, equally and differently, and you and I both know there is no way this could have happened.”

Sherlock stirred on his side of the town car and finally glared at Mycroft. His anger had been stirring and bubbling up inside of him and finally cracked under the pressure that was his Alpha brother sitting across from him. Sherlock wanted to hit him and scramble out of the car as fast as possible, but instead turned on him and gritted his teeth.

“Omegas get killed. It happens everywhere, all the time. Have you not noticed that on your cameras? Or did I just forget that you’re a supposed minor position in the government? Omegas are throttled and strangled, beaten and cut and r-raped.”

Sherlock felt his insides grow tight.

The tall man outside the limo walked pass once more, and Sherlock saw Mycroft glance at him, but then direct his attention back to his shaking- _was he shaking?-_ younger brother.

“Sherlock-“ Mycroft began, but void of emotion that made him turn away and grab the door handle.

“Omegas die. It is not my fault if they do. It’s always been that way. We are nothing but pleasure makers, and if we cannot do that, we’re bred, used up, and left in an alley way to die. Don’t act as if you’re concerned about my pregnancy, I’m sure you are just upset because you weren’t the one to do it.”

“Sherlock! Brother dear, just stay. We have much things to discuss- why does this man keep walking past the vehicle?” Mycroft gave Sherlock a questioning glance and he rolled his eyes.

“Sebastian. He’s on a prowl for me, making sure I don’t run off or something.” Mycroft nodded.

“Sherlock, please. I can help you. You are not fit for such a place to be living in. You deserve much better.” He tried to give a smile that looked genuine but Sherlock still felt like it was tight and fake.

“No.  I don’t belong anywhere.” He mumbled. He clicked the door handle and nearly was out, when Mycroft grabbed his arm.

“Brother, I know you stopped the drugs. And I know something is quite wrong. I cannot completely understand what is happening here unless you help me, you know of this.” The grip on his arm softened, almost turning into a lover’s needy grasp.

Or that’s what Sherlock assumed it felt like.

“I don’t need you, Mycroft.” He whispered softly, his voice breaking on the last word. He could feel the wall on the front of his mind palace breaking, it had a crack in it. A fly crawled though. The doorknob rusted, as did the hinges, making it more vulnerable to unlock. The front window had a hole in it.

Mycroft let go and Sherlock climbed slowly out of the vehicle, standing carefully. He shut the door behind him. It hadn’t moved two inches when Sebastian stepped into his peripherals.

Sherlock was half-tempted to climb back inside the car and weep into his brother’s lapels, about how the mean Alphas had hurt him, left the marks on his body, the one who had left the seed implanted deep inside of him, the seed he intended to care to full term. Sherlock wanted nothing more than to turn back into the nine year old who had no more problems than his other classmates, but than to come home and crawl into his older brother’s lap, his nearly twenty-one year old brother, and weep about the bullies at school, the older boys who had already presented as Alphas and poked at him, then left him bleeding on the recess court, bloody knees and palms stained with dirt.

Sherlock wanted more than to take his most hated person alive and yet crawl into his bed like a loyal bitch, wondering if Mycroft would ever really care for him like he promised in the past.

Sherlock felt sick to his stomach at such forbidden thoughts that still lingered from his teenage years. He turned to Sebastian and glared up at the larger male. The lamppost near him flickered. He could see the smart convenience store and Chinese take-out down the street beginning to close up. Alphas lingered outside, and Omegas stood on the corners, scantily dressed despite the cold.

Sherlock knew the town car had turned the corner and was long gone when Sebastian finally came forward and held a cigarette in front of Sherlock’s lips.

“Would you like one?”

Sherlock felt the tip of the smoke press against his lips but he turned away from it and rubbed a hand over his abdomen.

“No thank you.” He heard Seb tsk and shivered, but instead of wandering back inside, turned and stood next to the Beta, using him as a shield against the cold wind.

Seb chuckled as he stuck the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. It took him a few minutes between dragging on the cigarette and standing, watching the small groups of Alphas and Omegas wandering the streets, mingling, talking to Betas, standing on street corners or getting picked up by strangers.  Several lingered around the small marts and late-night take away places, nibbling on sandwiches or still warm boxes of noodles and shrimp. Sherlock wondered if it was still early enough that he could go get one.

“So, who was the prat in the town car?” Seb asked. Sherlock didn’t want to answer, but decided it would be a good idea to say something when Seb grabbed his side and began twisting and pinching it to get him to speak.

“Government official trying to be some sort of stud. Gave him a hand job is all.” Sebastian chuckled.

“Awfully long hand job.”

“He got limp halfway through it.” Sebastian cackled.

“Not like your boney fingers helped anything.” Sebastian grabbed Sherlock’s hand and lifted it to his lips where the cigarette dangled.  Sherlock watched as Sebastian took the cigarette away and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s hand, running his lips all over, rubbing the skin together, dragging his bottom lip across Sherlock’s palm, and pulling his teeth over a finger. Sherlock shivered at the motion, not understanding how he was supposed to feel.

_Until Sebastian took the cigarette and pressed it into the knuckle of his third finger._

He grimaced in pain and tried to desperately pull his hand away but Sebastian clutched it harder and leaned close to him.

“You are quite beautiful, you know. All angles and shadows. Stubborn as shit. As jealous it makes me when I see Jim fawning over you, like you’re one of his projects or some other bullshit, I sometimes _envy_ him for being able to touch you like he does. If I tried that, he would just _know._ ”

Sherlock curled his fingers into a fist as Sebastian gripped his face, crushing his jaw in a manner that made Sherlock look like a child with his squished face, and kissed him full on the lips. Sherlock stood there for a moment when Sebastian flicked away the bud of his finished cigarette and walked upstairs.

His heart hammered heavily in his chest and he swallowed heavily, noticing that the take away was still open. He didn’t have much of an appetite now. He wrapped his robe around him, curling into the cold piece of fabric. He turned and slowly walked inside, walking up the stairs with slow, steady steps. When he reached his flat, he slowly walked in and shut the door. His knees felt wobbly but he didn’t do anything until he sat down.

He glanced at his knuckle, observing the blistered knuckle, but decided it wasn’t as bad as it had felt. He curled into the pillow of his couch and decided to go in and repair his mind palace from Mycroft’s arrival.

A new addition in the room that belonged to his brother (Persian rugs everywhere, stacks upon stacks of papers filled with items regarding his brother. The room was red and mahogany tables. Sherlock hadn’t wanted it to look like this, it had just sort of happened. He preferred it though.) A large four-poster bed had been settled in the middle of the room. The tables lined the walls, along with book cases. Sherlock crawled into the bed, and glanced around the room. He felt secure here, if only slightly.

A bust of Mycroft, pearly white, and dripping with something vicious looking, sat in the corner near the marble fireplace. Sherlock could feel it staring at him.

He felt somewhat comforted and collapsed against the pillow.

**_(Take a chocolate milk and PB &J break. This might get intensely heavy from here on out.)_ **

John hadn’t felt anything in nearly a week. He was sort of blocked off, and he much appreciated it. His life was starting to return to normal, except for the awkward times that happened between him and Stamford, who hadn’t had much to say to John since he confessed to his personal crime.

John comforted in the fact that someone agreed that what he did was wrong, although technically, he would never be arrested for it. Rape was rape, but there wasn’t any evidence of it, and John was technically now bonded to the little omega. The police wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

John sighed and stopped typing up his paperwork for a moment and leaned forward in the chair, deciding it would be a good idea to take a breather from the amount of things he had to finish for work, and instead stood to get a biscuit from the kitchen. He grabbed a plate, deciding on a sandwich, and smile a little at the thought of food.

He suddenly became intensely ill; his chest felt heavy and a wracking pain of depression, anger, some sort of depression settled over him.

He felt his heart racing in his chest and pain so intense that it made him scream went through his hand and he yelled. He dropped the plate and watched it shatter against the floor.

His lips tingled and _jealousy,hate,anger,depressionangerdepressionjealousyhelphelpangerhatredhelpmestop stop STOP **STOPSTOPSTOP…**_

  1. **_Shock._**



**_Comfort._ **

John hadn’t realized he had blacked out until he sat up, and glanced at the clock on his laptop. He had collapsed after screaming and felt his entire being shake as he began to weep.

It just wasn’t fair.

**XXXXXX**

Sherlock wondered if Mycroft had boundaries.

He wondered if the cars down the street would follow him everywhere he went. Sherlock hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Mycroft in almost two and a half years, and he had been fine with how things were before. The face to face confrontation meant Mycroft desired something of sorts that Sherlock wanted no part in, and he thought back to the murders about the Omegas Mycroft had mentioned.

He tried not to think about it.

**XXXXX**

John sat in his office, hands clasped together, thinking.

He thought about that small, thin Omega every day. It consumed his thoughts, took over him.

He wondered if the Omega did the same for him.

No, probably not.

**XXXXXX**

Jim was coming back  today.

Sherlock only knew this because every person in the building, Omega, Alpha, and Beta alike were on a cleaning spree, making sure to prepare their rooms in case Jim wanted to come in. Sherlock could hear them outside the apartment, scurrying in the hall. He didn’t move though. He sat where he was, continuing to fold and stack laundry.

Sherlock had spent the week ahead cleaning his own flat, then had settled on cleaning Jim’s too, under Seb’s watchful eye of course. He cleaned the dishes, cleaned the sink, the floors, the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, anywhere he could go was cleaned. The rooms smelled of vicious bleach and cleaner, and Sherlock was sitting in the bedroom finishing with the laundry.

He knew Jim didn’t live here- not in this shabby housing building meant for prostitutes of all genders. He knew better. But he visited often- for the sake of his Alpha status, to check on his Beta husband and personal money-making slaves, and it was also a safe house when he wasn’t doing business of any sorts.

Sherlock decided to press Jim’s suits when he was done, and shine his shoes. He hoped to be done before Jim arrived.

Sherlock stood and lifted the full laundry basket, pressing the lip of the basket to his abdomen. He could feel the small swell of his stomach of the pads of his fingertips- even though he wouldn’t be showing for another month or so. Maybe it was his own paranoia- maybe not. It felt like everyone just knew he was pregnant- alone and abandoned.

Sherlock walked into Jim’s bedroom and set the basket on the bed. He started putting the clothes away- crisp and clean, pressed and ironed. Ready to be worn at any moment.

Sherlock stifled when he heard Sebastian’s footsteps outside in the hall. He had been watching the other building’s tenants for the past few hours, to leave Sherlock alone once the omega had started whimpering about feeling uncomfortable at being watched, but it seemed he had returned.

Seb stood in the hall, donned in his usual attire of jeans and a basic tee-shirt.  He leaned against the doorway and chuckled as Sherlock shuffled from the closet and dresser, then to the laundry basket to repeat the process.

“Maybe Jim can’t have you as a wife, but maybe we can keep you as a little maid. Jim might keep you around to clean, cook…give us some pups, spread your little scent around the place. I think I’ve warmed up to it somewhat.” Sebastian chuckled as he left the room, leaving Sherlock standing there.

He felt his insides toss and grow warm with anger. He clutched the shirt he had folded with angry, pulling gently at it with his fingers, kneading it for comfort. He never wanted this, any of this. He turned and glared at the doorframe where Seb had stood moments before, and began to strip. If Sebastian wanted Jim to keep him around, he would make sure Jim kept him.

Once naked, Sherlock climbed onto Jim’s bed, shifting the blankets around, moving the pillows. He pressed his hips into the comforter and rubbed, frothed and grinded into the fabric. The friction felt nice for once and he rubbed eagerly, feeling his  cock begin to harden. He felt wet, his Omegan vaginal juices running down the back of his thighs. He made sure to take both Jim’s and Seb’s pillows on their marital bed and rub his backside against them, before placing them back. He climbed off the bed and fixed the bed, before rubbing himself against the carpet. He fisted his own cock- keeping himself hard and continuing making his personal Omegan fluids run down his thighs.

He peeked out from the bedroom and glanced down the hall. Sebastian appeared to have left, so he darted out into the living room quickly. He climbed onto the first chair he could find-an Anello classic. He grinded into the fabric and smeared his juices on it. He was thankful it wouldn’t show up- but it left his scent all over it.

He clambered onto their Suzanna sofa next and laid on his back. He would have to hurry.

He began fisting himself quickly, skin sliding against skin. He felt heat pooling in his stomach, warmth growing under his fingertips, and then- he felt his hips rock into the air and he bit his lip to stay quiet.

He stood and left, rubbing himself against the walls, the chairs, the carpet. He made sure to scent everywhere.

He hurried back to the bedroom and dressed himself once more before finishing his work, fixing up the room and then getting ready to start pressing Jim’s suits.

He heard clattering from outside, and several noises erupting from downstairs. He stopped and shifted carefully, feeling suddenly uncomfortable and anxious as he left the bedroom. He wandered from the large flat and into the hall, where he glanced down the staircase and found most of the tenants to be running to finish chores and collect laundry. Jim stood at the bottom, bearing gifts to his little Omegas and growing Alphas that clustered around him. Foreign gifts were always something of a specialty he gave to his money-makers when he came home to London. Foreign candy, toys and clothes for the Omegas, desserts, new games and jackets for the Alphas. The betas received a bit of each, or other items that the Omegas and alphas didn’t need.

Jim smiled as he handed out chocolate to greedy, thin Omegas who never had enough to buy themselves much. Suitcases and bags were stacked by the door, filled to the brim with gifts that everyone ruffled through. Sherlock knew, though, Jim always saved the best for him.

He never kept it.

Jim unclasped his suit jacket as he began walking up the stairs, the omegas clambering after him, mewing for his attention. The Alphas followed, swept up in the crowd, silent and persistent on not asking for attention, but still craving it.

Jim was a pure bred Alpha, and no gender, not even betas, could resist him. Jim clambered up the stairs, before stopping on the flight below and glancing up at Sherlock. He smiled, then turned and pressed his lips upon the small, under age Omega that trailed behind him, his little and scrawny body pressed to Jims, another clinging to his arm. Jim kissed him with a moment of passion, which made his face flush and sent the long-haired, pale Omega flying back into the crowd with a cry of happiness, followed by his purrs.

Jim shooed the crowd away with a wave of his hand and promised to visit them all later, then continued up.

He approached Sherlock slowly, swinging a bag from his wrist. Sherlock stood,  a little smaller than Jim by inches, and glanced up at him. Jim smiled and brought his hand to Sherlock’s face, tracing over his cheekbones with the knuckles of his fingers. He smiled as Sherlock felt an irresistible urge to purr for the man.

“Hello, sweet. I brought gifts.” Sherlock swallowed heavily and followed as Jim gestured to follow him to the flat. They climbed the stairs, slowly, Jim grabbing his fingers as he trailed after Sherlock. Sherlock knew no good would come from deceiving the other man, the one that provided his home, his food, his care, but he had no choice.

_Omegas don’t survive in this world by themselves._

Jim whisked his way into his flat dramatically, where Seb stood with a large grin on his face, ready to see his husband after such a long trip.

“Hello, Jim.”

Jim smiled,  bearing a toothy grin for the Beta that reached his eye-level               , and held out his arms to give a half- sentimental hug to the man he called his husband.

“Sebasti-“ Jim stopped and Sherlock smiled when he watched the Alpha freeze, halfway through his returning hug to the Beta, shiver, smell the air. His body and back tense as- Sherlock realized the moment Jim had stopped- they smelled his scent all over the room.

Jim turned, bags fallen to the floor, pupils large and dark. He smiled, his teeth glinting. Sebastian stood behind him, smile gone, silent. Jim’s focus was on the Omega now.

“Sherlock…love. What did you do?” He chuckled. Sherlock poised, ready, curled into himself like an Omega would. He felt embarrassed, suddenly, at knowing he had rubbed himself all over the room like a wanton whore, to anger Sebastian, to prove Jim would never want him like he would Sherlock.

Sherlock felt himself blush, shockingly.  It completed the Omega look he was trying to make for Jim.

Jim shuddered, and turned to Sherlock completely now, the tent in his pants quite obvious now.

Sherlock fumbled, posed with his head down and put his hands behind his back.

“I’m sorry, Jim. I just couldn’t wait for you to get back. I wanted to feel your,” he swallowed heavily, the words clumping in his throat, “hands all over me, but you weren’t here.” Jim sniffed the room heavily, trailing from furniture to furniture as he smelled the room from where Sherlock had left his scent all over.

Jim swallowed, reaching for him, but stopped. Sebastian was in the room, glaring at the exchange between both of them as Jim fought between his Alpha calling and his husband that stood behind him angrily.

Jim smoothed the front of his suit down, straining under the sudden heat. The bulge in his pants never lessened, but Jim seemed to keep his composure.

“Now that I’m home with both of my boys, I think we went out to celebrate! Let’s go out for some dinner and-“ Sebastian stepped in between them to stop Jim.

“How about I just go out for a pint?” he grumbled under his breath, angrily. Sherlock watched as Sebastian left, taking a jacket off the hook from beside the door and slamming the door shut. Since he was a Beta, he could not feel his Alpha’s anger, nor have a bond with him. Leaving out like he did wouldn’t upset like it would’ve an Omega.

Jim cursed and sent a look to Sherlock, a glaring grin that should’ve frightened him, but didn’t. Jim stepped closer to him with a chuckle, then reached up to stroke Sherlock’s hair.

Or so he thought.

He gripped Sherlock’s hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat, making him vulnerable. Sherlock shivered, not liking where it was going, but having no choice in it. Jim rubbed their bodies together, pressing the sides of their faces together and smelling him deeply.

“I’m actually relieved he left. I wanted to spend my time with my lovely Omega.” Jim bent down to kiss him deeply, his tongue lolling around in his mouth. Sherlock felt sickly as he kissed him, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe. Once Jim pulled back and kissed him softly, he took a deep breath. Jim stroked his face. His eyes were dark and full of lust, and power, and dominance.

“And now that I’m home, I shall do as I promised.” Jim kissed Sherlock once more, and Sherlock, light headed and dazed, looked at him, trying to conceal his horror.

“Yes, my dear Omega. Tonight will be the night I impregnate you.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I havent posted in a while due to significant circumstances in my life preventing me from doing so, lack of motivation and depression. I apologize.   
> Pay attention to several things in this chapter. They will reappear later in the story and be very important. You'll know when you read it.

Sherlock swallowed hard and lowered his hard gaze from Jim’s.

The Alpha chuckled and swept up the bag off the ground, and handed the gift to Sherlock, with a kiss on the forehead.  Sherlock felt his insides clench and he wanted to sigh loudly, but tried his hardest to avoid giving off any feelings towards the Alpha. He was getting mildly irritated with all this drama, and the abuse from Sebastian was beginning to make his movements difficult.

Jim patted his head and ruffled the curls.

“Little Omega, I’ll be in the office. Be ready at seven, we have a big night.”

Sherlock watched as Jim waltzed away in a happy manner down the hall, a door shutting and he was gone. Sherlock let out a large exhale, and looked down at his stomach, rubbing the unnoticeable bump. He turned and walked out of the apartment, gripping the gift that Jim had given him. He quietly  trudged down past the alphas lounging on the stairs and stepped to the side as several omegas ran up the stairs in flouncy lingerie and makeup, running to Jim’s apartment to try and get his attention.

Sherlock closed the door behind him and sat down on the couch with a small huff. He could hear the giggles of Omegas and Alphas, Betas talking in conversations under their breaths below. Sherlock looked down at his stomach and stroked the baby bump gently.

“What am I going to do?” He asked himself quietly. He rubbed his belly, then leaned over and put his head in his hands. The pro to keeping his baby was he could try to trick Jim, the baby would be his in a sense. He would take care of it.

Sherlock felt a dip in his own mind when he realized the only pro to the situation on keeping the baby would be Jim being able to take care of it, pay for the baby to have a good life. The cons outweighed it all, with him ending up being continuously depressed and beaten. Since the day Sherlock had stepped in here, the bruises were always coming. He remembered getting into fights with the Alphas and Omegas when he used to live on the lower floors. Sherlock swallowed heavily, and then turned and looked at the bag sitting on the couch.

Sherlock reached for it with shaking hands and picked up the crinkly bag, opening it and reaching in to pull out lingerie. He gave a disgusted sigh and dropped the lacy fabric.

With a glance at the clock telling him he didn’t have much time, Sherlock took the lingerie with him as he walked to the bathroom, closing the door in an attempt to make himself feel better. He looked at himself in the mirror, then slowly stripped himself of his pajamas. His thin body had only softened a little bit, but he was still boney. His stomach was the only thing, as small as it still was, that was prominent. Sherlock stroked it as he turned to the small bathtub and bent down to turn the faucet on. He slowly  adjusted it, finding the right warm temperature he need he would enjoy. His body ached and he knew a shower was the right thing for him right now.

The water turned to a slow spritz as he pulled the plug up for the shower, then it became a harder drizzle as Sherlock stepped in slowly, feeling the water pool around his ankles, before lowering in quick fashion and filtering down the drain. Sherlock hung his head, his neck feeling limp, his thick hair splaying itself over his forehead with the weight of the water.

Sherlock ran his hand over his stomach, knowing that even though he couldn’t feel the bump, he could feel the presence of his baby.

The shower lasted longer than Sherlock thought, and he stepped out of the water as it began to turn cold. He dried himself off slowly with his flimsy towel, ignoring the ones Jim had put in his bathroom. He draped it around himself and left the bathroom, water droplets running in patterns down his back. He left the quickly-dampening bathroom and pattered down to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He sighed when he saw that Sebastian was sitting in the corner of the room, typing slowly on his smartphone. He didn’t look up when Sherlock stepped in, but Sherlock just turned and began to get dressed.

“Where’s the old sport taking you?” Sherlock sighed as he began to dry off and pull on his underclothes.

“I wouldn’t know, Did you suggest any restaurants to him?” Sebastian snorted in a snobbish manner and crossed his legs.

“Shut yer yap. Remember, before you came along, Old Alpha Jim was all _over_ me before you ever came along, with your pretty little Omega body.” Sebastian growled. He continued tapping his phone, between glances at Sherlock.  Sherlock sighed as he walked into his closet and rifled through the clothes he hadn’t touched in a while. He pulled out his purple button-up and began to clothe himself. He pulled on a pair of black dress pants, noticing they were only slightly tight around the waist. Sherlock sighed as he slipped on some socks and turned to his dresser, noticing Sebastian hadn’t moved from his spot, only moved in the chair to adjust sitting more comfortably. Sebastian glanced up at him, but then back to his phone. Sherlock sighed as he slipped on a small ring, his distaste for jewelry being scoured away by his distaste of Jim’s poutiness whenever he didn’t wear the stuff he was gifted.

Two gold studs were placed in his ears and he ruffled his damp curls.

“You’re still there?” He sighed. Sebastian grunted at him.

“I don’t think Jim would look for me in here. I don’t really want to hang around when he bangs the fuck out of your little Omega ass just to get a kid out of you.” Sherlock sighed as he brushed a curl out of his eyes and rubbed his stomach. Sebastian chuckled as he flipped his phone around in his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You already got a bastard in you.”  Sherlock gave a sigh and pressed his palms onto the top of the dresser.

“Sebastian, look, I don’t want anything to do with Jim.  I don’t. The only reason I haven’t left is because of the child.” He said softly. Sebastian was looking at him, but Sherlock stared at the top of the dresser.

“Omegas don’t get to really try for positions in life, and a pregnant Omega that wasn’t mated, it’s even harder.”

Sebastian was silent.

“I thought it was impossible for Omegas to be breeded without being mated?” Sherlock shook his head,  his curls bouncing.

“I guess not. The one who did this left before…before he…he pulled out and ran away.” Sebastian was quiet continuously and Sherlock gave a heavy sigh as he continued.

“Jim can take care of my baby.” He said quietly.

“He’ll know its not his.” The older Beta chuckled.

“If he hasn’t figured it out by now, he probably won’t, Sebastian.” Sherlock said quietly.

“Jim can help take care of this baby when I can’t. Omegas can hardly get jobs, or succeed without an Alpha. I know he’ll spoil the damned thing rotten and leave something for it when I’m dead or he is.” Sherlock cupped his head in his hands and shook his head slowly. Sebastian watched as the young Omega’s hands began to shake subtly. He lifted a brow and watched the tension in Sherlock’s body increased slowly. He stood and walked towards the Omega. Giving a small sigh. He didn’t want any compassion forming for this Omega. Sebastian was not one to present anything outside of the cold compassion he presented when shooting someone out of one of his snipers.

But Sebastian grabbed Sherlock’s shoulder and pulled him around, to find the Omega with bright, shining eyes full of tears. Sebatsian felt a stiff chill in his back and watch as Sherlock shook harder and grabbed the tall Beta, pressing his face into Sebastians shirt. Sebastian froze, feeling stiff as the proclaimed sociopath gripped his shirt and shuddered, sobbing quietly into his shirt .He was shaking harder and harder as Sebastian gently stroked his back, in a cold manner.

“Look, Sherlock. I’m- I’m not exactly one for emotions, and with you fucking Jim-“

“ I don’t want to!” Sherlock cried, gripping his shirt harder. Sebastian let go softly and felt himself sneer a little as he realized Sherlock was practically losing it.

“I’m a drug addict, Sebastian. I-I can’t, I can’t stop, a-and what life is that for a child?”

Sebastian sighed and grabbed Sherlock’s shaking hands in one hand, before reaching into his pocket and shuffling for his smokes. He pressed one into Sherlock’s trembling hands.

“One ain’t gonna kill the damn thing, now calm down.” He said in a disgruntled manner. Sherlock’s sobs decreased but the tears flowed like rivers down his cheeks as Sebastian turned and left the room. Sherlock listened to Beta as he departed from the apartment, and he glanced down at the cigarette that resided in his hand.

He wanted to crumple it, but if any Alpha smelled his pregnancy hormones, they would deny him the smokes, because it was illegal to sell nicotine to pregnant Omegas.

Sherlock rolled the nicotine between his fingers before laying it down on top of the dresser, and he headed out of the room after the Beta.

**_XXX_ **

Sherlock resisted the urge to hop back and forth from the ball of each foot as he awaited on the curb for the proclaimed Alpha to pull up in some fancy car, to show off to the crowded street of the Alphas and Omegas.  Sherlock trembled, feeling the tension in his bones increasing as the time passed, which wasn’t much time at all. Sherlock could practically feel a timer in the back of his mind palace going off, counting how long he had lasted without the use of drugs to calm his mind. He could imagine the ticking of a clock, a grandfather clock, in the middle of his mind palace, the pendulum swinging in the case.

Sherlock felt his shoulders tensing up, and he felt like he was going to vomit, his stomach aching with the stress of knowing he wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation. Jim was a man that you didn’t want to reckon with and Sherlock had already done twice as that.

Sherlock wondered for a moment, if he could grab a taxi and run. Just to tell the driver to go until he couldn’t.

Sherlock turned as a slim, black town car pulled up next to him and Sherlock’s mouth went dry. The door opened and Sherlock turned to watch as Jim slowly stepped out of the car, a set of black sunglasses over his eyes, covering his emotionless eyes, and a thick black coat buttoned up around him. He smiled at Sherlock and reached into the car, standing up to hand a thick coat to Sherlock.

“Here, darling, you look cold.” Sherlock frowned, but accepted the jacket, so Jim wouldn’t know he had withdrew from doing drugs and that was his reason for shaking. He didn’t care to explain why he had gone cold turkey,  and acted as if the cold rain outside was his reasons for shaking.

He pulled the jacket on, knowing he was burning up with a heat wave from his pregnancy. He flashed a small smile at Jim and took the hand he held out as he stepped into the vehicle.

 As soon as the door closed, the car pulled away from the curb and Jim sighed as he adjusted in his seat.

“It’s so nice to finally…have some time together.” He turned and stroked a lock of hair away from Sherlock’s head. He wanted to turn away, but he knew not to enrage the Irish man sitting next to him.

“I-I agree.” Sherlock cursed at himself inwardly for his uncontrollable stutter, but Jim leaned close and nipped his lip, giving a low chuckle. Sherlock identified this as Alpha mating patterns, but his hormones wanted him to turn away and cry as hard as he could.

“Such an adorable little Omega.” Jim chuckled as he turned away, wrapping an arm around the back of the seat, gripping Sherlock’s shoulder in another attempt to begin the mating with Sherlock.

Sherlock swallowed, feeling chunks of bile go back down his throat as they continued through the streets of London.

**_XXXX_ **

Being in social places, was NOT something a pregnant Omega could handle in the first weeks of the fetus in development and Sherlock always believed this to be an absurd notion of social anxiety.

Oh, how he was wrong. Sherlock could feel the crippling weight of Alphas looking at him their eyes turning ever so slightly to glance at the Omega that had walked in briskly with the Irish Alpha. Alphas that were bonded simply glanced, and turned back to their lovers or friends they had attended the restaurant. The Alphas that weren’t, turned, scowled and flexed in an attempt to calm down their internal instincts. The Omegas simply sneered and Sherlock watched as many of them fluffed their hair, twirled their fingers in it, whined and whimpered to the Alpha that had been previously attempting on them. Several feminine ones fluffed their cleavage and Sherlock watched as one even bent down, the Omegas dress outlining the curves of their rump and hips.

He turned away and slid closer to Jim, knowing he at least would provide Sherlock with some comfort.

The Irish man smiled and gripped Sherlock’s forearm as the host escorted them through the restaurant, giving them a secluded area. Jim slipped off his sunglasses and jacket, and reached for Sherlock’s to do the same, pulling it off and draping it over the back of his chair. Sherlock sat down once his chair was pulled out and Jim followed, sitting across from him and smoothing his suit out, unbuttoning the jacket to sit down without any creases.

A waiter appeared beside the table and smiled, handling two wine menus to Jim and Sherlock, but Jim snatched his away, handing it back to the waiter with an icy grin.

“Sorry, I intend to inseminate my Omega tonight, no wine please. I’ve heard it lowers the chances of,” Jim looked the thin Omega waiter up and down, making him shake for a moment,” filling them up with my seed.”

The waiter’s face went red and he scurried away after taking Jim’s order and Jim flashed a grin to Sherlock. He frowned slightly as a basket of freshly baked bread was brought to them.

“I doubt that was necessary.” Jim chuckled,c lapsing his hands together.

“Can’t take any chances, my Omega needs to be strong and healthy to take my thick seed.” Jim chuckled. Sherlock didn’t say anything, but he felt his face growing hot.

**_XXX_ **

In the midst of a quiet, meal, mainly with Jim chattering away to Sherlock, Sherlock felt a pain in his stomach and then realized the back of his throat burned. He politely excused himself and stood, trying not to run as he headed towards the restrooms, quickly locking himself in the loo and vomiting into the toilet, hoping no one heard the splash of water and the gagging coming from the small Omega.

Sherlock rinsed his mouth at the sink, choking for air, feeling his body shiver and quake. He didn’t know if it was the food or the drug withdrawal, but he hoped he would not have any more vomiting episode that night. He turned to leave the bathroom and opened the door, but a large male bustled in, pushing Sherlock back into the loo. Sherlock felt his heart beat increase as the Alpha pressed into him and looked down. Sherlock watched as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his suit.

“I can _smell_ you. I can _bloody smell_ you across the room.” Sherlock swallowed and tried to side step him, but the Alpha followed.

“That little Irish fella you came in with, compared to him, I’m a _purebred_ Alpha.  I could treat you so right, so well, make you writhe and scream in the bed.” Sherlock’s stomach dropped when he realized the Alpha was hard and continuously growing against him.

The Alpha suddenly dropped to his knees and pulled on Sherlock’s pants. He attempted to grab the Alpha’s hair and yank him away but he had no strength compared to the brutish Alpha, as he yanked down Sherlock’s dress pants and pressed his fingers to Sherlock’s slit, rubbing the wet opening, then sliding up to his taint and pressing his fingers in softly. Sherlock’s cock twitched but he tried to ignore the pleasure as the Alpha picked him up, supporting him in his arms, ready to lick and eat Sherlock.

“ _Let me take you._ Let me take you home, kitten. You can be my pet, my little wife, my bride. I will cover you in gifts, and make sure you never have to ask for anything you want. I…” He trailed off as he stopped licking Sherlock’s thigh, a startled look across his face. Sherlock felt beads of sweat running down his face, shaking. He needed to leave and go, this Alpha had tempted him enough.

The handsome Alpha blinked and stood, redressing Sherlock, stopping for a moment to graze his hand over Sherlock’s belly.

“Pregnant…but not…bonded…” Sherlock stiffened and went to scurry away, but the Alpha grabbed him.

“It is insemination? A Beta’s?  I can’t…my head is fuzzy…” He whispered. His grip loosened on Sherlock’s arm and Sherlock took this as the sign to scurry away.

Sherlock darted back to the table and looked at Jim, who had pulled out his phone to swipe around on the touchscreen, but it returned to his pocket when Sherlock returned.

“Hello, darling. You look pale, you doing alright?” Sherlock smiled as he calmly took a sip of his drink.

“The, um, the shellfish salad didn’t agree with me.” He patted his stomach, feeling the bundle of cells move around. The dinner continued, but near dessert, Sherlock felt sick and had to swallow down his treat to avoid vomiting on the table.

Jim stopped when his cellphone went off and sighed, turning to Sherlock after checking the caller ID.

“Awh, sorry.” He flashed that icy grin and handed Sherlock a card from his wallet.

“Go on, pay the bill and go sit in the car. I’ll just go and answer this real quick.” Sherlock nodded, and took the card, not wanting to pester the man about his illegal businesses and ongoings. Sherlock handed the waiter the card, noticing it was a different waiter to address him.

Once the card was returned and the bill was paid, Sherlock slipped his jacket on and buttoned up, heading towards the hallway Jim had disappeared down. Knowing Jim didn’t appreciate long phone calls, Sherlock had just a notion of his deduction he knew what was happening.

He glanced around and saw several powder rooms for the genders, and bathrooms, hallways leading to secluded dining rooms and such. He glanced around and saw the hallway leading off to the separated bathrooms and powder rooms. The only door he knew Jim wouldn’t enter was the kitchen’s winging doors.

He turned to see a door gently moving, so little it was unnoticeable to anyone else, but Sherlock knew that without a doubt Jim was in there. It didn’t take much deduction skill for Sherlock to have seen the way Jim looked at the Omega waiter and knew he had seen the business call as an opportunity.

Sherlock entered the powder room as quietly as he could, listening to the soft moans and skin slaps that gently rebounded through the empty room. Sherlock walked softly to the corner, the curtains drawn for seclusion. He ducked his head down and peeked, making sure to stay out of sight.

Jim had his suit jacket off and had unbuttoned his pants, the little Omega waiter beneath him. The small armchair provided was being used as a support for the little Omega, who had his knees pulled up to his chest, spread open. Jim was thrusting powerfully, rocking into him. The Omega moaned continously and Jim put a hand over his mouth.

“Shhh, it’ll be over soon.

“b-but it feels so good!” The little Omega cried. Jim gripped his wrists and thrusted harder. Sherlock watched as Jim’s knot swelled, and pushed it inside of the Omega. His eyes popped open and tears of pleasure ran down his face.

“O-oh my god, you-youre knot-oh god-“

“I wont mate you, I promise. I know your little Alpha at home, wouldn’t, like , that!” Jim enunciated every word with a powerful thrust that shoved his cock and knot in deeper. The omega would’ve screamed if Jim hadn’t been smart and covered his mouth. Sherlock, feeling an sick taste like bile in his mouth, decided to leave the two to their own devices.

He left the powder room in a quiet manner, listening to Jim’s grunts and groans of how he was about to come. His stomach tossed, knowing the little omega would go home and have Jim’s smell all over him. He would probably be punished, and the alpha would leave him, sign his authority back over to his parents and leave. Sherlock would go home with Jim, and trick the Irish man into raising his bastard child.

Sherlock stood on the curb and wrapped his coat around himself, feeling sick and cold in the breeze as he awaited the town car and Jim’s appearance.

Once the car pulled up, Jim appeared, pristine, almost as if he hadn’t just fucked an Omega younger than Sherlock in the Alpha’s powder room. Sherlock turned and glanced over to see the Omega walking shakily, looking like the brisk quick fuck had been the best thing of his life.

A smell hit Omega and he stopped, but he didn’t have time to identify the recognizable smell as Jim gripped his forearm and swung him back into a teeth crushing kiss, pulling him into the car.

The car took off as soon as the door was closed and Jim gripped Sherlock, sliding his hands beneath his clothes in an attempt to arouse Sherlock to his alpha mating rituals once again.

He slid down to Sherlock’s ear and licked up beside it.

Sherlock shivered, but said nothing. The cells in his stomach flurried.

**_XXXX_ **

Sherlock tried to keep up with Jim, but he was hurrying, pushing Sherlock’s clothes off in an attempt to seduce the Omega. They tripped on their clothes on the way to Jim’s bedroom, and Sherlock felt warm. He was getting too warm from Jim’s body heat, and felt sick. It was almost unbearable as Jim pressed him against the wall and began to rock their bodies together, rutting together. Sherlock felt Jim’s Alpha cock growing hard under his suit, and the realization of what he was about to do with this Alpha was making him sick.

Jim opened the door to his bedroom and pushed Sherlock onto the cool sheets. For a moment, Sherlock had the opportunity  to cool down, but Jim was on him, struggling to get his pants down. Sherlock laid still, let the Alpha do what he wanted.

Jim pulled Sherlocks pants down, attacking Sherlock’s slit and taint with his tongue, licking and making Sherlock soaked. Sherlock wriggled, pushing his head back to avoid looking at Jim as he felt himself begin to submit to the pleasure.

It wasn’t until Sherlock was flipped over, that he realized Jim had unclothed him and made him soaked and hard and ready. Sherlock gripped the pillow as Jim went in, pushing his thick Alpha cock in. Sherlock whimpered, remembering he hadn’t had intercourse since the baby had been conceived.

Jim slid in fast and hard, snapping his hips so he went inside deeper and Sherlock groaned, letting out a painful moan. Jim accepted this and started going harder, thumping his hips into Sherlock’s slit. It was hot and tight and Sherlock could feel his little bundle of cells moving around, back and forth, following the rhythm of the sex.

Jim’s knot swelled against his slit and popped halfway in, making Sherlock’s back arch in pain.

“It’s okay, love.” Jim cooed to Sherlock . But tears ran down Sherlock’s face anyway, thankful he was facing the opposite direction from the Irish man.   He couldn’t handle this much longer, his vagina being forced open by a knot pressed halfway into him, pushing further, trying to force it inside. His conceived child in his stomach was fighting against the hormones, the stress , and for a moment, Sherlock feared he would miscarry his child on that bed beneath him.

Jim’s knot pushed in the rest of the way as he orgasmed, grunting in pleasure as he finished. He flopped over to the side and yanked Sherlock towards him, who was shaking, his fear of miscarriage being overcome by the shock of what had just happened. He was still in the mating position but Jim gripped him and pulled him to home, sliding his hand over his belly.

“Oh, it’s almost as if I can feel my child already.” He chuckled, rubbing Sherlock’s stomach. Sherlock, frozen and stiffened in shock, laid still. The ticking of the clock in the back of his mind palace resumed, reminding him how often it had been since he had done drugs, and Sherlock regretted letting that begin.

It was hours later when Sherlock blinked and realized the Alpha had fallen asleep, smothered in the silk blankets and sheets, but Sherlock was wide awake, feeling the cells in his stomach flutter, stretch and he realized they were growing. He blinked, and realized his face was sticky with tear stains. He rubbed his cheeks and sat up slowly, glancing to see the Alpha roll away from him. Sherlock blinked again, and slowly slid from the bed, walking slowly from the bed. His legs and thighs burned. His vagina burned and he could feel it dripping with fluids that still hadn’t dried. He gathered his clothes slowly and walked back down to the flat below.

Once the door closed, and he was in, he shut it quickly and slid to the ground.

Tears slid down his face and Sherlock glanced at the windows. They were still dirty, and he sobbed harder.

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, haven't updated in a long while again. Sorry, readers. Life is hectic.
> 
> Warnings; jumbled mess, a bit of incest, and Mycroft shows emotion. I dont suggest reading it if youre frightened or put off by any of this.

Sherlock stroked his belly as he looked at it in the mirror, holding his shirt slightly above his belly.

Two months since the inevitable had passed and Sherlock’s stomach had grown in abundance, probably because he was underweight as it was. Sherlock noticed his bottom had also started to swell slightly also, but he tried not to think much about the changes happening as it was. Sherlock rubbed the underside of his belly before pulling his shirt back down. His bump was noticeable at this time, so Sherlock knew he couldn’t hide it.

He pulled his robe around himself and left the bathroom, flipping the light off as he did. He walked over to his bed and sat down on it, relaxing into the mattress as he heard the front door to the pent house open.

A week after Sherlock and Jim had intercourse and Jim had attended to mate Sherlock, Sebastian had come to collect Sherlock and move him to the penthouse with Jim and himself, from Jim’s orders. Sherlock had watched a room be cleared for him and designed with silky sheets and thick curtains. Sherlock knew it was part of Jim’s mating ritual, the afterwards anyway. Sherlock had been getting gift after gift from Jim. He felt no pull or push from emotions from Jim, but Jim claimed he could feel the love being pushed back and forth. 

Sherlock lied and hoped he would never catch on.

Sherlock rubbed his belly as he turned on the telly, watching as some dumb reality show for the stay at home omegas to watch during the day. An Alpha had accidentally fathered several children in a mix up at the sperm bank for the omegas and betas who had no luck finding their mate.

Sherlock sighed as he laid back and the hulk of a beta stepped into his bedroom and flopped onto his bed, lying next to the omega and giving an exasperated sigh.  
He handed Sherlock several small packages, and kicked off his shoes as the two watched the show in silence for a moment. Sherlock inspected the packages for a second then glanced at Seb.

“More gifts from Jim?” 

“Yep. Do we have any thing strong to drink in this house?” Seb grunted. Sherlock sighed as he began to open the first small package.

“The liquor cabinet? I wouldn’t know outside of that, Sebastian. Jim wont let me drink.” Sebastian glanced at him and sighed.

“Jim doesn’t drink anything but the wimpy stuff.” Sebastian huffed, as Sherlock opened the package and found a thin, collar type of necklace inside. It was studded with diamonds.

Sherlock sighed and set it aside as he started on the next one and Sebastian watched him.

“When are you gonna tell him it isn’t his?” Sherlock slid his fingers under the parcel’s flaps and tore them open.

“I don’t think I will, Seb. He hasn’t even figured out he didn’t mate with me.” Sebs head turned towards Sherlock quickly.

“He didn’t mate with you?” Sherlock nodded.

“The guy who impregnated me pulled out before we mated… but somehow we were connected like we did.” Seb shook his head.

“That doesn’t make sense. Jim said he’s been swapping emotions with you, says he feels connected or whatever the bullshit is.” Sherlock shook his head slowly.

“No. I don’t feel anything. It just didn’t happen.” Seb blinked.

“Then wait how-“Sherlock shook his head.

“Don’t even bother to think about it. Jim could’ve accidentally mated with anyone.” Sebastian grunted and sat up higher. Sherlock pulled out expensive chocolates from the parcel and set them aside also.

“Honestly, I would be more comfortable knowing the bloody bloke mated with you than someone else.” Sherlock nodded and slowly rubbed his belly.

“Understandable.”

________________________________________________________________

John’s life was havoc. 

The new apartment was terrible, and he moved once more.

Then that apartment felt so lonely and cold. It was in a busy side of town, so John had enough to distract himself from the pervasive thoughts in his mind.

He went to the pub more often than not, but he had brought several omegas home without any success of warding off his thoughts, his emotions. At this point, sex was an object of distraction from the depression that invaded his mind and clouded it. 

He tried to party, but that didn’t last long. He was too old for that. His commute to and from work was boring, and work itself was a droll on everyday life. John couldn’t handle the toll from it all.

John sat in his living room, a glass of scotch in his hand. He stroked the gland in his neck that his mate was supposed to bite and sighed. In the empty living room, only filled with the simple necessary furniture, he felt alone. His stomach had grown a few pounds, not much but enough to guess it was five or so pounds. John had felt nothing between him and his mate the day they had cut off the connection between the two of them, and john knew the break was what his depression was being filtered through, what his weight gain was from, what his loneliness originated from. 

John stroked the gland and sighed, sitting up and lowering the volume on his telly to think. He pressed his fists together and clenched his eyes shut. He felt the connection open on his end as he pushed forward with his emotions and thoughts.

Omega?

Omega? 

Sorrow. Lonely.

He opened his eyes and blinked, waiting for a response.

He tried again.

Misery.

Nothing. John settled back into his couch and sighed, picking up his scotch once more and settled with his lonely life.

Jim grinned as he placed his hand on Sherlock’s stomach and squeezed, brushing his hand over his belly button several times.

Sherlock whimpered for Jim, knowing it’s what the Alpha expected as Jim caressed his belly with a soft dominance. His mouth was on Sherlock’s ear, groaning as he thrusted   
shallowly inside the Omega.

“My baby. Ugh my little pup.”

Sherlock shivered, but laid still.  
__________________________________________________

Sherlock blinked and it seemed time passed. Soon enough, the earth turned and the snow began to fall, the air grew icy, and his body grew bigger. Another two months passed and Sherlock found himself bulging with pregnancy at nearly five months, nearly halfway through his pregnancy. His room had been transformed into a nest, with Jim giving him blankets, furs, sheets and curtains. He bought a new mattress for Sherlock to give birth on, if needed, and had sent people to make him handmade maternity clothes for his size. Sherlock was showered with food and gifts continuously and Jim routinely felt the baby move and kick, kissed his belly and sunk into his Alpha.

The beta and the omega had grown, albeit not connected, a bit closer in the forms of being on a speaking level, and Sebastian consistently was around him. Sherlock had deduced   
that Sebastian’s attempt to grow closer to Jim once more and get him back had dwindled away as the relationship between them bloomed. 

Or, at least, Jim thought it had.

Sherlock sighed and lifted himself from the bed slowly, wobbling a bit on his feet as he stood. His whole backside felt sore and numb from lying on the mattress for so long, but in a ridiculous form of dominance, Jim had assisted he’d rest. Sherlock waddled to the bathroom as he felt the baby push down on his bladder with each furthering step. Sherlock grumbled as he lowered himself to the toilet, sore with the growing fetus as it prevented him from urinating while standing and instead he was forced to sit. Sherlock sighed in an   
almost heavenly way as Sebastian poked his head around the corner.

“Doing alright there, pregnant?” Sherlock peeked an eye open from his blissful urination and grumbled, turning his nose up at Sebastian.

“Taken on a new fetish? I didn’t realize watching pregnant Omegas urinate into the loo was the new thing.” Sebastian grumbled and stepped into the bathroom, eyeing Sherlock’s bathrobe and elastic underwear.

“You do realize Jim scheduled for another ultrasound for you today?” Sherlock tossed his head back and groaned, his chocolatey curls falling back to brush against the back of his neck.

“But I had one last week!” Sherlock exclaimed angrily. Sebastian chuckled and rolled a smoke between his fingers, the paper crumbling as Sherlock’s attention snapped to it. He looked at the nicotine intimately and Sebastian laughed.

“A slut for nicotine, aren’t you?” Sherlock growled and turned away, feeling a little enraged at the wording the ex-army general had spoken. He stood from his seat on the toilet and flushed, pulling his underwear up awkwardly and leaving, but not before grabbing his robe and wrapping it around himself in a manner that he hoped would offend Sebastian. 

It didn’t.

Instead, he slapped Sherlock’s ass (which had noticeably grown to accommodate some of the extra weight on his body.) and chuckled at Sherlock’s yelp of shock.

“Now, hurry up and get dressed, love bug. You need to go see a doc about a baby.”

Sherlock huffed as he attempted to wiggle into the car and get comfortable, adjusting his elastic shirt over his belly. He wanted so desperately to button up his coat but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stretch the fabric over the swell of his pup.

Sherlock nibbled his lip as the car pulled away from the curb and he turned to Sebastian.

“Will Jim be there this time?” Sebastian looked up from his cellphone at Sherlock.

“I’d seriously doubt it. I saw him get on a plane this morning.” Sherlock gave a small sigh of relief and turned back to the cold window, leaning his bony elbow on it. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the sniffling, pregnant brunette before sighing and reaching into his pocket.

“Here.” Sherlock turned and saw Sebastian handing him a smoke. His eyes widened slightly and he started to shake at the nicotine, his body withdrawal never exactly leaving whenever the cancer sticks were around.

“Jim-“Sherlock started, feeling as if he had no say so.

“Jim isn’t bloody here, nor is he the one making decisions for you twenty-four-seven. Besides, one smoke won’t kill the damn thing, and doctors even say it’s okay to have one if times of stress or some bullshit. Just take it before I change my mind, you pregnant twat.” Sherlock sneered and snatched the smoke, putting it between his lips as Sebastian produced a lighter for him. He rolled the window down a bit to filter out the smoke and sighed as he deeply inhaled. He felt his pup kick, waking up as the car drifted over a speed hump. Sebastian grumbled as he texted on his phone and Sherlock sighed in slight bliss as the cold air fanned his face. The car was silent for a moment before Sebastian opened his mouth.

“If you’re so worried about Jim finding out, why you don’t just tell him-“Sherlock’s head snapped towards Sebastian and he growled.

“We’ve already discussed this several times, Sebastian.” Sebastian glared at Sherlock in annoyance.

“If you let me finish, I was gonna say, why don’t you tell him you got pregnant earlier?” Sherlock shook his head.

“He would know it wasn’t his.” He said quietly. Sebastian nodded and turned away as the car continued through the streets of London.

”You’ve just been dealt the bad hand then.” 

Sherlock mumbled in agreement.

John coughed as something that tasted like nicotine invaded his throat and he picked up the water sitting in front of him to drown it out, coughing at the acrid taste.

He coughed and rubbed his chest when he looked down and realized what had happen.

Instead of finishing the Chinese meal in front of him, he pushed his plate aside and dropped a quid on the table, more than enough for the meal and tip, and left in a hurry, yanking his jacket around him as he hurried out the door without another thought.

It had been months since he had anything associated with his Omega and his bond happen, and he was not prepared to miss it.

Nervous

Anxiety flowed through him like a river and he began sweating in anxiousness as he hurried down the street. He wound up where he wanted, Mike’s door. He pounded on it several times before the jolly, large man opened the door and saw the nearly out of breath Watson on his doorstep. He frowned.

“What is it, John?” John huffed and stood up straight, groaning as he looked at Mike.

“My…Omega…I felt them. I felt the bond, something in it.” Mike frowned and gently patted John into the hallway of his home.

“What did you feel?” john shook his head as he tried to remember.

“Anxiety. They were nervous.”

Discomfort.

Smoke? 

Cool.

He shivered, all in a matter of seconds as he felt uncomfortable and cool at the same time, growing hot and then goosebumps, nicotine filled the taste buds on his tongue. Mike’s eyes widened as he watched his colleague squirm in his home.

“John? What is it?”

“Smoke, they’re smoking, somewhere cold. Theyre in some sort of discomfort.” Mike shook his head again, not understanding the meaning of John appearing on his doorstep.

“Why am I involved?” John eyed him, bloodshot eyes turning to the only person he could trust.

“Because, I need to make sure what I’m feeling is real. “ Mike frowned, pinching his eyebrows together, but nodded to his friend’s needing approval.

“I believe you.” John sighed, scrunching up slightly as he felt cold again.

“I want to try and find them, Mike. It’s my obligation. I’ve decided against my…previous choice. I want to help them.”

Mike chuckled, sourly.

“Do you really think they’ll accept their rapists help? I doubt they even want you near them, john. Put that idea to rest.” John shook his head.

“No, no it’s unfair. It’s cruel. Omegas die from lack of their Alpha part, Mike. I’ve-I’ve been so depressed. I don’t think I can take it anymore.” He said his last words with no emotion and hung his head.

Mike and John stood in that hallway for what felt like a long time, before Mike slowly rested his hand on John’s shoulder.

“Alright…I’ll help you. “ John’s head snapped up and Mike sighed.

“But, really, John. You’re going to have to give it up after some time if you don’t find them, you know that, right?” John nodded as he started towards the door.

“Right.”

“Go home, John. Rest. You’ll be needing it.” John let the door shut quietly behind him as he slowly left the bulding and headed home. The bond was slightly reopened, and he didn’t know when it would close again. He decided to take a chance and send something to his Omega.

Worry. 

Curious.

Find.

Omega.

He paused and when nothing came back he sighed, wondering if it was closed again.

He tried one more time. Throwing something out, that he hoped wouldn’t backlash.

Love.

All was quiet and John blinked, feeling tears prick behind his eyes. He was beginning to think Mike was right.

He shivered.

Alpha?

John gasped and stopped on the sidewalk, feeling his heart rear as tears drifted down his cheeks.

He wondered what else to send, but stopped himself. He didn’t want to overwhelm his Omega and close the bond again. He struggled to not send anything as he walked home, and felt proud that he had ventured further.   
__________________________________________________________

Sherlock shivered as he asked his alpha through the bond, but when nothing came back, he sighed and pulled his jacket further around himself.

He ventured into the private building and followed Sebastian through the private clinic, back into the ultrasound room. The nurse and doctor were already waiting, no doubt hired directly by Moriarty to treat him and his pup right. Sherlock walked briskly into the room behind Sebastian, going ahead and sitting on the observation bed, laying back and pulling his shirt up to his collar bone. Sherlock groaned as he awaiting nurse dribbled the gel over his belly.

“Just get this over with.” He huffed and Sebastian gave a chuckle.

“”im curious, the Omega isn’t happy to see his kid?” Sherlock glared at him and shifted on the bed as the doctor laid the remote on his belly and moved it around.

“I’m fine with the pregnancy, a-and everything else. I’m not okay with getting an ultrasound to see my child every week. It’s irritating enough to get up and walk around, going to a doctor every week makes me sick.” Sherlock groaned and rolled gently away from Sebastian to look at the screen. It went dark as his shifting moved the remote away from his belly, but the doctor huffed and shifted it back. Sherlock blinked and looked at the shifting baby on the screen.

The doctor made a few marks on his clipboard before pointing at san area on the baby.

“Do you see this?” Sherlock nodded and the doctor used his pen to draw something.

“This, this is a penis. Your child’s physical body is presenting itself as male.” Sherlock looked at the doctor and back at the screen, watching the baby move in the grainy black and white picture. He sniffled and wiped his nose, without noticing his own reaction. He felt warmth pool in his chest and he clutched his jacket without much thought. The doctor lowered his hand and turned back to the screen, adjusting his glasses and frowning before looking at his charts.

“Hm.” He made a small noise and turned away for a moment. Sherlock and Sebastian looked at the doctor and at each other. Sebastian crossed his arms and Sherlock sat up as the nurse handed him a towel to wipe his protruding belly off.

“What is it, doc?” Sebastian spoke up. The doctor looked up and back at the charts.

“Oh, it’s nothing. It seems the baby is much larger than we thought, it seems the pregnancy is off by a few weeks.” He stood and walked to the counter and filled out a few forms before turning and handing them to the nurse and they nodded. He stuck his hands in his coat and turned to the two.

“I’m going to schedule you for another ultrasound in two weeks. I think we were off about your child’s progress, which means I’ll have to change your due date and move some things up for your next visit.” Sherlock felt his mouth grow a little dry and he glanced at Sebastian out of the corner of his eyes. Sebastian was glaring at him but smiled for the doctor and patted Sherlock on his lower back to direct them towards the door.

In the car, Sherlock didn’t say anything, just gripped his coat to keep it closed around his stomach. Sebastian grunted and shook his head.

“That doctor is going to inform Jim that your pregnancy is further along than what everyone thought. He’ll know now.” Sherlock pressed his fingers into his temple and gave a groan.

“You act as if I haven’t yet processed this information.” Sherlock said in a low voice, glaring at Sebastian for a moment. The two sat in silence as they pondered the news they had just received and Sherlock began to shiver. He gripped his coat tighter, feeling cold at the same time as he didn’t. Sebastian coughed and leaned forward to fiddle with the backseat heat controls for the car, making it warmer for the pregnant Omega. Sherlock shook but turned towards the window, pressing his nose into the wet, cold glass as he puzzled over his new situation with his child.

But the one thing he couldn’t wrap his head around was two facts, one, he was very much pregnant and expecting a child, and two, it was a boy. A little boy. 

Sherlock slowly rubbed his belly and sniffled quietly to himself. His chest ached a bit, and he felt as if he had a cough stuck in his throat. He shivered and stroked the place where his son decided to push and stretch his little feet into. 

Son. His son. 

Sherlock coughed very loudly and felt a quick pain in his chest. He muttered a quick sound of pain under his breath, and turned to Sebastian.

“Stop the car.” Sebastian frowned, but otherwise leaned forward to tap on the barrier between himself and the driver. The car slowly pulled off to the side and Sherlock’s hands shook too much as he fumbled to get out of the car.

Sebastian quickly reached around the Omega, knowing fully well he couldn’t let him struggle. As soon as the door handle popped, Sherlock all but leaped from the car. He gripped the fence railing closest to him and swayed dangerously.

He felt a pat on his back but gently pushed it away, breathing in deeply and exhaling heavily before standing up and turning to Sebastian. The ex-army general gave him a look of worry.

“You alright there, Sherly?” the brunette nodded quickly, his curls bouncing on his head. He shuffled awkwardly on the sidewalk in his pregnancy slippers and looked away from Sebastian as the tall Beta slipped back into the car and turned to the Omega, waiting for him to climb in after him.

“Sherlock, come on.” Sherlock sighed and glanced away for a moment, doing a double take as another black town car gently pulled to the curb down the street. He pursed his lips and leaned down as much as his son would allow him.

“Head on home without me, I’ll be following behind you.” Sebastian frowned and moved towards the car door quickly, reaching for the omega.

“Oh no you don’t, I’m not letting you wander around London unsupervised.” Sherlock stepped back and shut the door quickly, but Sebastian rolled down the window.

“Sherlock, get in the bloody car. I’m not asking.” He glared at the Omega. Sherlock stuck his hands in his pockets and shook his head.

“I have something I need to do, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah and look what happened last time you left without supervision.” He nodded down at Sherlock’s round belly and Sherlock gave him a small sneer.

“Just go. I’ll be fine.” He stepped back onto the sidewalk, making sure not to bump into any passersby’s and Sebastian shook his head in an angry manner.

“Whatever, Sherly. Don’t get hurt.” The window rolled up as the car pulled away from the curb and Sherlock watched it drive away. His hands began to shake gently again and his chest ached softly. As the car pulled around the corner, Sherlock watched the town car pull up to the curb and he clambered in as his hands throbbed and shook. 

Once inside the car, he shoved his face into the pure Alpha smelling mass that was on the seat-his brother. He felt disdain towards himself for stooping so low, but his body needed it.

He broke down in tears and began to sob, the shaking stopping and his chest pain receding as the smell of his Alpha brothers musk seeped into him and made his body gooey. He barely noticed the car pulling away from the curb, or the fact he was gripping his brothers lapels as he sobbed like a child. 

What startled him enough to bring him back was the feeling of pressure as he felt his son move and shove a foot into his bladder. He blinked and choked up, gripping Mycrofts waist coat as his son shook him from his hazy, sobbing to a depressive calm. Tears still dribbled down his face, but he let up his hold on Mycroft and lifted his wet gaze to his brothers.

“Whats happening to me?” He quietly whispered.

For the first moment in the past four months, he felt scared. He felt hollow. 

Mycroft, one to barely show emotions as it was, gently grabbed his brothers hand and gripped it tight. His eyes, not their usual steely gray, were now full of a dark sadness that made Sherlocks stomach turn. He had no idea why he had started hurting, shaking, nor as to why he dove face first onto his brothers chest and bawled like a toddler, but Mycroft seemed to know. He gave a gentle sigh and stroked sherlock’s face, turning his brother into a purring creature for a split moment.

“Your Omega is missing your Alpha’s presence. More so, because your child is also missing him.” Sherlock swallowed heavily, feeling a lump stuck in his dry throat as Mycroft stroked his brothers back. It gave way to purring from the Omega, as this seemed to encourage the tense and aching muscles in his back to relax.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment to happen, honestly. I expected it sooner, but your body is lacking the Alpha presence and comfort.” Sherlock’s eyes widened and he lowered his head slowly. Mycroft moved his hand to stroke Sherlocks dark curls, and this made the Omega feel even better. Mycroft swallowed, knowing it wasn’t what Sherlock needed entirely, but he could give him something that would satisfy it.

“That is why you reacted the way you did when you encountered my presence.” Mycroft grew quiet as Sherlock looked up at him with bleary eyes, then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“But, wait, Jim is an alpha.” Mycroft nodded.

“Yes, but he isn’t around enough to provide you with the satisfaction your body needs, nor is his Alpha status that high compared to mine or…well, im assuming your own Alphas.” Mycroft watched as Sherlock sat up slowly and rubbed his wet, swollen face of its tear stains.

“You mean, my Alpha is most likely a pure blood?” Mycroft nodded carefully. He himself was a nearly perfect pureblood Alpha, only his younger brother’s status as an Omega leaving the family line of Alpha sons to be incomplete. 

Sherlock sniffled and rubbed his engorged belly, feeling large and awkward. His son was pushing down on his bladder more and he hoped he wouldn’t wet himself in confusion of needing to urinate for his sons position in the womb. He rubbed near his belly button as he thought for a moment, his mind hazy from the thick scent of his brothers Alpha musk that seemed to fill the car.

“That must mean Jim isn’t a pureblood.” He said softly. Mycroft sighed.

“Yes, and hes probably a very low status Alpha, im guessing that’s why he fights so hard to keep his brothel workers on check and build his criminal empire to the highest standing.” Mycroft said lowly and Sherlock nodded softly.

“Mycroft, I don’t know what to do.” Tears welled in the desperate Omegas eyes. His Omega side encouraged him to push himself up against Mycroft, but he restrained himself.   
His son moved around. Sherlock could feel another limb push into his kidney.

“Sherlock, you know you have options.” He said quietly. Sherlock felt tears run from his eyes as he looked at his brother, who was giving him a comforting look. Sherlock sobbed gently and reached over, gripping his brothers jacket again.

“No, Mycroft. I cant. I owe him money. I owe him. He thinks this is his child, too. If I left...Jim would come after me. He would try to take the baby.” Mycrofts comforting gaze lowered to a steely hard one.

“And how do you think he’ll react to finding out the child isn’t his, Sherlock?” Sherlock wiped his face, but continued.

“He’ll hurt me, or the child. Somehow, some day, he would do it.” Mycroft stayed quiet for a moment.

“Not unless you two were under my surveillance.” Sherlock chuckled and wiped his eyes.

“I thought I already was?” Mycroft shook his head.

“Not twenty-four hour. I do check in’s.” Sherlock gave his brother a look and made the Alpha laugh.

“Im telling the truth, Sherly. But, I’m serious about this. You have other options than this one, and you know where to go if you need it.” He handed Sherlock his coat, who took it confusingly.

“Once you leave this car, your Omega will seek your Alphas presence again. I know I’m not ideal for the role, and I cant be there constantly, but my scent is imprinted into that coat. Keep it close by. Your child’s health and so will yours will be affected by it in a positive manner.” Sherlock looked at the black coat, its simple design, but could feel its texture was thick and warm. He couldn’t help himself; he shoved his face into the coats jacket. 

Mycroft chuckled as Sherlock inhaled his scent. He watched his omega brother blush and pull it away from his face, rubbing his belly after. 

“You don’t have to bury your nose in it. Im right here, brother dear.” 

Sherlock smiled softly.

“My child is kicking. I think hes happy.” Mycroft nodded towards the pregnant Omegas stomach.

“May I?” Sherlock stopped and glanced at his brothers hand, suddenly feeling very awkward at having such an encounter. No one besides his doctor and Jim had touched his belly without permission and Sherlock was taken aback for a moment.

Then he nodded softly, and picked up his brothers hand to place it on the spot where his baby pushed and kicked against. Mycroft smiled gently and pulled his hand away, before pulling Sherlock to his side. Sherlock ws pressed into the leather seat, feeling warm and gooey as his hollow insides were being filled with the musk and hazy scent of the Alpha, and he felt as if he was drugged. It took him a moment to register that Mycrofts lips were on his neck and his hands were holding his brother in such an intimate way that if anyone were to look they would assume the two were lovers. Sherlock groaned softly and felt himself sink into the seat.

The car stopped and so did the two of them. Mycroft pulled away slowly and Sherlock blinked, trying to collect his mind from the scattered pieces it had turned into. Mycroft smiled, making Sherlock feel so awkward to see such a display of genuine emotion on his brothers face. 

It wasn’t until Sherlock climbed out of the car that he realized what all had just happened and he looked at the coat in his hands. Mycroft rolled the window down enough to speak to his brother before pulling away.

“You know what to do if you need me. Don’t hesitate.” 

The car pulled away and Sherlock felt his heart sink a little. Registering the intimate encounter between himself and his brother made his stomach turn slightly, and he wondered how he had been so completely okay with the odd and flirtatious manner upon which Mycroft had just opened up to Sherlock. Sherlock knew, deep down, that his Alpha brother was a good option for him, a better one for him than Jim, but his actions upon leaving Jim frightened him so much he didn’t know what to do.

He looked at the coat in his hands, and then up at the brothel he considered his home. It was only now, standing in front of it, that Sherlock knew why Jim didn’t live in an expensive high rise apartment. This brothel, despite being open and out to the public, was underground enough for Jim to be able to come and go as he pleased.  
Sherlock looked at the coat in his hands once more, feeling that bust of Mycroft, in that far away room in his mind palace, suddenly sprout flowers and the room glowed red. The building in front of him was a sickly image to him now. 

He didn’t want to go inside and lifted that coat to his nose, inhaling the scent to brace himself enough to go inside and face his reality.

His son pushed on his bladder with his foot and Sherlock felt a warmth run down his leg.

His reasons to go inside grew.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 9,000+ words. Be grateful, it was a terrible thing to write. motivation is lacking in my mind.

Sherlock breathed heavily as his eyes snapped open, he could feel cold sweat running down his back and forehead and he shivered. And to match the shaking and sweat, his son had decided to start pushing up on his ribs and he groaned from where he lay in bed. His body had all but imbedded its heavy self into the thick mattress and Sherlock wondered if it was worth the trip downstairs to his old flat. He knew what he needed, as if Mycroft hadn’t already explained it to him, nearly two weeks ago, but Sherlock’s nearly six month pregnant body couldn’t seem to will itself from the bed to waddle downstairs and retrieve the coat his brother had given him from the coat rack, where he had delicately hung it. Keeping it as far away from Jim as possible was the smartest idea.

He wasn’t so keen on walking downstairs anyway to his old flat. Sherlock knew that he had left a secret stash behind his mirror, in case of emergency, in case he wasn’t somehow able to get a fix. The idea that he could somehow slip back into doing the drugs while he was still pregnant frightened him to the core.

Sherlock gripped his pillow as he shook, understanding how weak he was to his own destructive self. He missed not being able to feel, or to care for it.  
Sherlock pulled at his body, tugging his wet clothes anxiously. His baby moved and struggled in the womb, and Sherlock groaned in pain. He slowly reached down under the blankets with a trembling hand and pushed, trying to make his son stay still for a bit so he could sleep for a while. But Sherlock knew even if he accomplished the act of calming his unborn son, he might not sleep. His body was hazy and warm, and cold and shaking. His Omega was scratching at the walls of his mind, trying to find peace.

Sherlock finally sighed and sat up slowly, pushing himself up in his bed with a bit of a struggle. His child moved in distress and kicked harshly on the inside of Sherlock’s womb. 

He inhaled sharply and pushed down on where his son kicked and rubbed, hoping to calm down the sporadic kicking of his son.

His bond between him and his son had not yet developed and Sherlock pondered if it ever would. He stood, and waddled to the center of the room slowly.  
He blinked and suddenly realized that despite just waking up, he barely knew what day, nevertheless what time, it was, and he looked around his bedroom. 

The bed, the empty one he had been sleeping in as of late, was a mess of pillows, blankets, sheets, comfortable clothing for Sherlock to find easily and change into, a few curtains hanging from the canopy. It was a mess, frankly, and Sherlock wasn’t obliged to pick it up. His bed was empty because he hadn’t seen Jim in nearly three weeks, nor heard from him. He wasn’t necessarily sad about this, but the discomfort from sleeping alone was getting to him.

Sherlock shivered as he wandered out of the messy bedroom, picking up a few plates from the dresser before he left the room, putting them in his messy kitchen. He shuffled to the foyer and slipped into some slippers, wiggling his swollen feet in the soft cotton. He knew he would eventually clean the suite, but at the same time he wanted to leave it for   
Jim to see how depressive it was to be him right now.

He wrapped his robe around his shivering body and slowly opened the door to the suite. He could see a few of the other brothel’s inhabitants hanging outside, among the staircase, hanging over, smoking, eating, and communicating. A few customers loitered or were slowly making their way up to the bedrooms of their preferred mattress mates. He   
could see a few customers leaving in a shameful walk, but Sherlock didn’t care. He was not part of that hoarde anymore.

He carefully walked to the top of the stairs and gripped the railing, beginning to venture down. The stairs to him felt wobbly and uneven, but he knew they were the same. His feet were swollen and made it difficult to walk evenly.

On the landing under, he paused and swallowed heavily. He was sweating heavily and his Omega knew the jacket was a source of comfort for him, and it was so close.

Sherlock nearly all but busted into his flat, shivering and feeling himself grow more and more anxious as time went by that he didn’t have the jacket.  
The moment he shut the door, he grasped it from the coat rack and yanked the thick wool coat to his boy, inhaling the Alpha scent he knew his Omega seeked. He felt instantly calm and his body began to slowly stop its assault on itself. His child began to rest easy and Sherlock felt pressure from where his son had been pushing began to ease.

He stood still for a moment and inhaled Mycroft’s scent, knowing this was good. Very good. 

He stopped once he felt better and clutched the jacket in his arms, glancing around the flat. Jim had finally moved everything that was Sherlock’s upstairs, and put it out of sight for the omega wouldn’t have anything dangerous whilst he was still pregnant. The furniture still remained, waiting for its next tenant to move in and take over the flat, waiting around for their next customers to step in and degrade the place.

Sherlock sighed and began to venture from room to room slowly, waddling across the crusty carpet, to linoleum, raking his eyes over every square inch of the flat’s walls and floors. He didn’t want anything left behind.

He ventured back out into his hallway and began to leave, clutching the only thing that was left to retrieve.

Sherlock paused outside of the bathroom, and glanced in. He could still see the cracks along the wall, beside the very edges of the mirror. He knew it was where he left his supply, and suddenly his hands felt clammy as he gripped the coat, and he swallowed heavily.

He slowly reached for the mirror, but stopped, mere inches from its glass, as his son pushed down gently on his pelvis. Sherlock glanced down at his belly, and slowly looked back up, looking at his own relfection. He realized, just now, how full his cheeks looked, and how his skin was no longer grey and ill-looking. His hair looked soft, and longer, and his hands no longer trembled like they had before.

He slowly pushed his fingers against the glass and sighed, hanging his head. He lifted his gaze to the mirror, looking at the false self that stood in front of him. He set the jacket on the sink and grabbed the sides of the mirror. He gently pulled, and wiggled the small cabinet out with a bit of ease. 

The hole behind the mirror was gaping, black and open. It had stray wires and drywall, but Sherlock grimaced and swallowed past the lump in his throat upon noticing the brown bag he had stuffed behind it, filled with a pound or so of his supply, was missing.

“Jim made me get rid of it.” Sherlock was so startled by the Beta’s voice that he dropped the mirror. It shattered next to him on the floor and he quickly stepped away, backing into Sebastian’s arms carefully. He froze as the Beta picked him up, a few inches off the floor and moved him into the hall, further away from the glass. Sherlock turned his head away from the Beta’s disapproving look as he reached in and picked up Mycroft’s jacket. He handed it to the quiet omega and sighed as he shut the door.

“You weren’t. Were you?” Sherlock turned away, feeling a burning desire to run. 

“No. I debated it.” His tone was cold with the Beta, but Sherlock knew he couldn’t tell the truth.

“Sherlock, your six months pregnant. Think of your son.” Sebastian said quietly. The two stood there for a moment in awkward silence, but for once it was a silence the Beta had caused due to caring. Sherlock felt legitimately embarrassed and a bit taken aback by the act of care the Beta had just pushed onto him. He looked up at him, into his eyes for a moment. 

He noticed, for once, they were not the cold steely gray they normally were. They were a soft hue of ash and Sherlock swallowed heavily. Although his own emotional state was void, his Omega fought with him to produce a hazy feeling towards the eye contact, and Sherlock could only describe the feeling as being something that related to the word   
lovely.

Tears welled up in his eyes and Sherlock began to shake in anxiousness.

“I think of him all the time, Sebastian.” He said quietly. The sniper pulled his lips into a thin line and glanced up and down the hall, giving off an air of feeling claustrophobic.

“We should probably-“

“But no one ever thinks of my own wellbeing, you see.” Sherlock continued quietly, disrupting the Beta without so much as a thought to what he had to say. Sebastian stopped and looked at him, actually looked. Sherlock could feel his eyes on him and knew Sebastian was staring at the tears that dropped from his long lashes to his cheeks. Sherlock knew what he said wasn’t true, but deep down, it felt like it.

Sherlock could’ve clinically provided evidence to his own deepening depression, but continued to deny his own spiraling mindset. In this moment, though, he felt broken. He had nearly succumbed to something akin to a poison to his own body, and his child’s growing one. It was a burden on him and he wanted to stop feeling, stop thinking so much. His mind rattled with thoughts and sentences that ran on and on, theories and ideas. Sleeping nowadays was the only relief, or drowning it out with crap telly. He sometimes locked himself away in his mind palace to expel some of it. He had countless rooms now, filled as if he was a hoarder to his own psyche and thoughts.

Sherlock began to cry.

“I-I got so tired of thinking of him. I got so tired of thinking of Jim, and the people here. I can’t focus on myself, because if I do, the only thing I’ll be able to produce from it is how unstable I really am. My son isn’t even a priority at this point in my life, as much as I want him to be.” Sherlock felt himself crippling under the weight of such emotion. He wasn’t used to feeling so heavily burdened with such things as emotions.

Warmth engulfed him and Sherlock noticed Sebastian had pulled the Omega into his arms.

“You’re a bloody idiot, Holmes. “Sherlock glanced down at Sebastian’s hand and noticed for the first time, his wedding rings were gone. The lines left from them lingered, but Sebastian had all but chucked them,most likely. Sebastian stepped away, slowly and brushed Sherlock’s cheek a little too roughly, wiping away his tears.

“I take care of your ass, Holmes. I feed you whenever you go into that big brain of yours and leave yourself alone for days. I make sure you shower, and hell, I try to follow you to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” His eyes softened, only a bit.

“I’m indifferent to you at this point, but I do think I could bring myself to care for you.” Sherlock gaped his mouth slightly, feeling awe and shock at what he was hearing, but he closed it once Sebastian gave him a steely look.

“I knew you would eventually come back for the drugs. I found them when cleaning the place. I knocked that mirror loose and called Jim. He made me flush ‘em.” Sherlock’s dry throat prevented him from speaking, but he decided to keep his mouth shut as Sebastian lead him from the flat. He kept his hand on Sherlock’s back the entire climb to the next landing and Sebastian followed behind him into the suite. Sherlock hung the jacket up slowly, matching it to other jackets and coats, making sure it blended in. He knew he would need it later, but for now, his omega didn’t need it.

He turned to speak to Sebastian, to tell the tall Beta he didn’t think he could recuperate the same feelings, but the Beta had taken off the black sweater he had on. Sherlock blinked a few times at seeing tan skin and looked away, blushing. He was not one to act innocent about bodies, or sex, but he still felt as if he shouldn’t look. His sexual orientation was something that confused him at this point of his life.

He felt Sebastian’s warm hand take his and place it on his broad chest, and Sherlock swallowed, not wanting to look. It felt awkward, and he felt naïve to be standing here, almost as if he led the Beta on.

Sebastian leaned towards him, his body warm next to Sherlock’s. He whispered slowly in Sherlock’s ear, his lips caressing the cartilage.

“I know you’ve been lonely, sleeping in your big bed, without someone. I think I understand how to change that.” 

Sherlock shivered.

Sebastian stepped closer to him and Sherlock swallowed heavily. He looked down, feeling shameful. His hands caressed his belly and Sebastian’s large hands slid over the swollen bulge. Sherlock struggled between his Omega encouraging both a purr and a hiss, but the warmth of his hands and the softness of the fingertips. 

The stumble to the bedroom was wet kissing and Sebastian catching the stumbling Sherlock.

The bed creaked, and rocked, and Sherlock scratched at Sebastian’s broad back, entertaining himself by making the Beta groan in a bit of pain.

“Not so rough there, Sherly.” He breathed out between shallow thrusts. Sherlock sighed softly, feeling pleasure pulse through him slowly. For once, he was the one to say it was okay to do this, and he didn’t felt any negativity pushing on him as Sebastian pleasured him, rocking into him, stroking him, kissing softly up and down his neck.

The bed moaned just as loudly as he did when they both orgasmed.

X~X

Sherlock blinked his eyes open and smiled sleepily, a small kick waking him up. He slowly sat up and rubbed his bulging belly, soothing his son to calm down. Sherlock glanced around, looking for the older Beta, but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Sherlock sighed and scuttled to the edge of the bed, as fast as a pregnant omega could. He gently slipped off the large canopy bed and bent down to sort through the clothes in search of something comfortable. A large plain T-shirt that hung to his thighs felt awkward, but he pulled on some underwear and gave a small sigh, grateful for the simple command of underwear with elastic waistbands being bought.

He rubbed his face and pulled his fingers through his dark curly locks as he left the bedroom, the overwhelming feeling of leaving his nest satisfied by the smell of food being cooked. His baby pushed against his abdomen in excitement and Sherlock’s mouth watered for once. He wandered towards the kitchen quietly, shuffling slowly until he could peer into the kitchen. Sebastian stood at the stove, clad in nothing but plaid pajama pants. Sherlock gave a small breathy exhale, looking at the scarred and smoothed over back of his weeklong bedmate. 

The sex had been great and Sherlock felt more connected. Sebastian was okay with holding him while he cried into Mycroft’s jacket, embracing an Alpha’s jacket to comfort his omega’s loneliness. He’d discussed the idea of leaving, to be with Mycroft, and Sebastian had paused, simply shrugged and turned away to watch crap telly.

Sherlock could’ve sworn that his eyes were sad while discussing leaving. 

Sebastian’s hands would rub and massage his back and pat his belly to soothe his son, and the entire time his Omega had been so heightened, he whined and begged like an animal. 

The only difference now was he was confused when the Beta pulled away, instead of thrusting himself deeply into the Omega, even though he was clearly exposing himself to be taken. It was only after he came down that he had to remind himself that Sebastian wasn’t and would never be an Alpha. 

Sherlock felt the corners of his mouth turn up as he looked at the simple kitchen table, covered in delicate, clean china, waiting to be filled with the plates and bowls next to him being filled with different breakfast items. Sherlock’s mouth dribbled a bit of drool and he picked up one of the pieces of bacon on the table and took a big bite. It crunched deliciousness in his mouth and he turned to see Sebastian glancing over to smile at him. More of a half grin, but it was enough to pull Sherlock close to him. Sebastian slid his hands down Sherlock’s body, tracing the curves of smiling when Sherlock’s son pushed against his hand. They kissed, and Sherlock felt nothing, but it was nice.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to wake you up.” Seb replied quietly, as his land lowered to Sherlock’s back and gently guided the pregnant Omega to a chair next to the table. Sherlock smiled softly, liking how Seb doted on him, returning to the stove to grab the pan and a spatula. Sherlock began placing food upon food onto his plate, struggling with himself on what to eat and not to eat. Before the pregnancy, Sherlock wouldn’t care to eat until Jim forced Sebastian to make him eat. Now, Sherlock craved the need to feel full, and he noticed how healthy and happier his baby was.

Eggs began to pile onto his plate and Sebastian chuckled as Sherlock began to eat, shoveling the eggs in his mouth as they piled. Sherlock felt his baby kicking happily, and   
Sebastian smiled as the Omega ate.

“I…” Sebastian started to say, and Sherlock looked at him, eager to actually hear what the Beta said. It was a weird attitude for Sherlock, but the Beta had actually been satisfying him in more than just sex.

“Go on.”

“Jim was never fond of my fetishes. But, when I watch you shovel food into your mouth…I-it makes me almost want to take you here.” He groaned softly and Sherlock felt his cheeks grow hot, not that it helped the one cheek that was swollen round with food. Sherlock felt his body begin to grow hot but his son pushed against his ribs.

Sebastian’s hand slid up Sherlock’s chest, to his neck, and gently gripped his jaw, the food forgotten; both of them ready to engage with one another again.

Sebastian leaned close, ready to kiss Sherlock, the air between them building with pressure.

The door opened, and an Irish-tilted voice called out.

“Helllooooo? I’m home!” Sebastian’s eyes went wide and Sherlock breathed heavily as the footsteps of the Irish man grew closer and Sebastian swallowed hard, his Adams apple gliding up and down under his skin as he stepped back as fast and quietly as possible. Jim finally appeared around the corner, smiling as he stepped into the brightly lit kitchen. 

His usual Westwood suit was swapped for a lovely button up of a light green shade and rolled up to his elbows. He smiled and swung his arms around, his forearms covered in straps of bags that were more or less likely gifts. He smiled wide, his lips pulled back as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

Sherlock swallowed and realized the two of them eating breakfast half naked was probably not so enticing to witness and Jim was probably not the happiest person right now to bear the scene. He glanced up at him as the moment grew into an awkward pause.  
Jim’s eyes slid between the two of them and his lips grew tight against his teeth as he smiled, and his eyes grew hard and colder the more seconds that passed. Sherlock trembled for a moment as Jim’s arms slowly lowered, still grinning coldly.

“So, uh, what’s going on here?” Sebastian stepped forward, startling Sherlock as he glanced at Sherlock as he kissed Jim on the cheek.

“Welcome back, love.” Jim purred slightly.

“Hello there, Tiger. I’m guessing breakfast in bed seemed to posh for you?” He glanced between the two of them with a cold smile on his face as he set the bags down slowly.

“Sherlock uh, said the baby was kicking and he was hungry. Asked me to make breakfast.” Jim slowly turned and smiled as he focused his attention on Sherlock.

“Gotten a little comfy in the time since I left, haven’t you?” His hands went into his pockets and he grinned. 

“This is an adorable set of events to come home to.” Jim smiled and ambled over to Sherlock, who still sat in his chair, frozen like a young kid in trouble. Jim bent down next to him, bent his head back slowly and gave him a deep kiss as his hands wandered to Sherlock’s pregnant belly.

Sherlock swallowed the cheek full of f food and tried to resist hissing at the Alpha that wasn’t his.

X~X

Sherlock stood in front of the bathroom mirror as he adjusted his clothes and brushed his hair, trying to make his curls comply. He sighed as Sebastian stepped into the door frame, his head hung. Sherlock turned and stood there for a moment, searching through the dictionary of his own vocabulary to try and piece something together to tell Sebastian, but his words died on his lips. He clicked his teeth together as Sebastian looked up, and Sherlock froze, a feeling of fear going down his spine when he spotted the bruises beginning to form on Sebastian’s face.

He stepped forward, maternal instinct taking over, but Sebastian grunted at him.

“No. Don’t. “Sherlock lowered his hand and stepped back, his hips pushing into the counter. He swallowed hard and they both looked away.

“He hit you.” The Beta chuckled sourly.

“He knows, Sherlock. Not all of it, but he knows the basics.” Sherlock turned away, a bubble of anxiety welling up in his chest as he pressed the top of his belly down softly. His baby kicked in an anxious pattern and Sherlock cringed in pain.

“Sebastian would he-“

“No.” Sebastian jumped in. Sherlock looked up in the mirror as Sebastian moved forward, closer to him, but didn’t touch him. Sherlock’s lips trembled slightly when he realized he could no longer touch Sebastian. The one comfort he could find went out the window with the return of the criminal Irish man. 

“He won’t hurt the baby, Sherlock.” Suddenly, he grabbed Sherlock’s shoulders and gripped them.

“Sherlock…you…you need to leave.” Sherlock lifted his head and looked at him in the mirror, their eyes meeting.

“What do you mean?”

“Leave. You said you would.” He said in a breathy exhale. He winced as his bruised cheek moved, but he ignored it as he gripped Sherlock’s hip and one hand on his shoulder. 

Sherlock’s lips trembled and his eyebrows furrowed in together. 

“But, that was- I wasn’t going to-“Sebastian grabbed him and deeply kissed his neck, before pulling back and gripped him harder.

“Run away with me.” 

Sherlock’s eyes opened wide and he shook his head slowly.

“No, no, Sebastian! His would-he would find us, he would kill you!” Sherlock whispered the sentence and hung his head, feeling anxious as he started into the droplets in the sink.   
He was seeing red, and trying to avoid letting tears fell was growing harder. He shook as Sebastian stepped back.

“Think about it. I could protect you…Protect him. “He gestured towards Sherlock’s bulge as he slid his hands around his stomach. Sherlock felt sick as the Beta left the room without another sound.

The tears ran down his face and he turned back to the mirror and wiped his face as Jim airlessly glided into the room, smiling as he pulled on a lovely dark grey overcoat and turned to Sherlock.

“Come along, darling. A night out on the town sounds good to me.”

Sherlock inhaled deeply and pulled a fake grin as he turned to his captor. 

“Of course, anything for you.” He waddled to the Alpha and smiled, gaining a kiss from him. Sherlock felt his child push against his organs and kick several times and he grunted as Jim turned away. Sherlock grabbed his stomach and shallowly breathed as his son was stressing to tell him something.  
And Sherlock realized.

His son and him had bonded. Much earlier than expected.

His son hadn’t even been born yet and Sherlock was already experiencing his emotions.

Sherlock swallowed and straightened as much as he could as he followed Jim to the door. With his hand on his lower back, Sherlock felt uneasier than ever as Jim pushed him into going down the stairs.

Sherlock glanced back, and all he saw was the bruised face of Sebastian, glaring softly at the Alphas back as he watched them leave together.

The door shut and Sherlock felt hollowness in his chest.

X~X

The nightly walk through the town that Jim had asked him to go on was nothing less than cold, and nippy. Sherlock was thankful for the large expensive parka Jim had put on him, and it hugged his pregnant belly like a blanket. The jacket was lined with fur and it kept him warm, but he wished he hadn’t agreed to this.   
Jim had his arm wrapped around Sherlock, stroking him softly as they walked through London. It was dark and cold and Sherlock’s son was going crazy inside my womb with anxiety. Sherlock’s entire body was cold and slightly trembling.

As they wandered closer to the Thames, Sherlock could only imagine what Jim was going to do to him. Throw him into the river? Hang him over the bridge until he begged for forgiveness?

The closer they wandered, the more anxious Sherlock became sweaty with anxiousness and his baby kicking him furiously. Sherlock cradled the bottom of his stomach and Jim rubbed his door.

“Not much longer, love, almost there.” Sherlock felt tears in his eyes and realized, the walking, the cold. It was a torture device for Jim to use on the pregnant omega, without consequences or getting him in trouble for harming his supposed mate. This was bad enough as it was, and Sherlock waddled slowly as he felt like he was covered in a stack of bricks. Jim rubbed his back and made him stop outside a brightly-lit restaurant, a small business that probably wouldn’t be open by the next year.  
Sherlock was made to sit on one of the cold wrought iron chairs outside and he shivered as Jim wandered in and bought a few things left in the ice box they had in the front counter. He came back out a moment later and grinned sharply at the sweaty, trembling Sherlock as he gripped the sides of his belly.

“Holding in there, my sweet?” Sherlock trembled and nodded yes, wanting nothing more than to beat Jim until he was satisfied and bloody with this man’s blood.

Jim sat outside next to Sherlock at the wrought iron table and handed him a sandwich, and placed a can of soda next to it. Sherlock swallowed hard.

“Caffeine is a dangerous thing to drink for the baby.” He whispered, his lips dry. Jim smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I don’t think one will kill you. Eat, drink up.” Sherlock swallowed and picked up the sandwich, the plastic wrinkling softly as he opened it and took a slow bite, whilst Jim devoured his. 

They sat in silence before the baby kicked at the same time his stomach burned. He set the sandwich down quickly and popped the tab on the soda, taking a gulp. The carbonation in it made him sickly feeling and Sherlock whimpered as he rubbed his belly. He didn’t know how much longer he could take this, and Jim watched him quietly, smiling as he flicked through his phone.

Sherlock quietly smiled and rubbed his belly, trembling as he tried to smile at Jim.

“I don’t think the sandwich sat with me right.” Jim smiled and stared at Sherlock, his eyes passing over every inch of the Omega, making him feel as if he needed a bath. Then Jim stood, and held out his hand for Sherlock.

“Come along, darling.” Sherlock swallowed heavily and slid his shaking hand into Jim’s.

They walked for a while longer, and Sherlock began to shake as Jim lead them towards the bridge.

“What a lovely night to walk across the bride, isn’t it? I mean, just look at all these lovely couples.” Sherlock shivered, and slowly reached back to grab his hood. He pulled it up over his head, and his curls were pressed down onto his skull. It gave him some warmth, but not a lot.

Jim suddenly stopped and pulled the omega into him, making Sherlock stumble slightly, until Jim all but slammed him into the bridge’s gate that protected the side. He shook slightly as Jim pressed into him, a hand gripping the gate above him. The water below gushed and the air blew hard and loud, the bridge feeling like it swayed. Sherlock felt sick as Jim pressed against him, further in. His teeth were white and sharp, and Sherlock whimpered as his son practically beat the inside of his mother. Sherlock felt dizzy and sick.

Jim suddenly grabbed Sherlock’s jaw and gripped it, softly, but menacingly. Sherlock glanced at the small groups of people walking past and understood that this was also a torment device, and no one around them would realize the Omega was in danger.

Jim gripped his jaw until his teeth began to ache.

“I know what you did.” Jim squished his cheeks together and Sherlock uncontrollably whimpered, his anxiety levels off the scale, his baby threatening to drop at this exact moment.

“J-Jim, I can explain-“A finger was pushed into his lips.

“Shh. Listen to me, little pup. If I ever find out, that you,” he paused for a mere second for effect,” and Sebastian, fucked,” he sneered,” ever again, I will rape you. I will thrust my fat cock inside your holes, and rip you open. I will fuck you, and strap you to the bed until your nine months pregnant. I will fuck you open and pull my baby out, then fuck you pregnant once more, and this time, I’ll fucking fill you with my babies, make you give birth with as many pups as I can stuff In your pussy.” Sherlock whimpered and Jim practically crushed him against the gate, and held onto his jaw harder. Sherlock began to cry uncontrollably.

Jim clicked his tongue and purred at him.

“Poor Sherly. Did you just miss my cock? I know I was gone for so long, my precious little pup. Daddy’s home finally.” He loosened his grip on Sherlock slightly, but crushed his jaw harder and grabbed his hip. Jim grinded his hips against Sherlock’s belly and he sobbed, tears running off his jaw.

“Next time, I will use you, I will rape you, beat you, make you birth pups until your tits sag and are useless, and your womb can no longer hold a child, then I will torture you and dump your body into the Thames. I. Will. Make. You. Suffer. Is that clear, my love?” 

Sherlock sobbed as he nodded , squeezing his eyes shut as he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Tears rolled off his face like a leaky water tap. Jim kissed his cheeks and pulled away, holding Sherlock in a halfhearted embrace as he tugged Sherlock in the direction of home.   
The cold and shivering Sherlock was once again waddling and holding his stomach when they approached the building. He looked up at the building and gasped for breath, shaking as Jim tried to tug him inside. He didn’t think he could take walking up the staircase levels. 

Sherlock felt panic welling up in his chest and he yanked his arm away, backing away. He shivered as Jim turned on him. The both of them stood on the wide sidewalk, the street lamps flickering for a moment as the two looked at one another. Jims face was stone cold, and he moved closer to Sherlock, who shivered and stepped back.

“Jim, I just need a moment, the walking, and the cold. I need a moment.” Jims face was cold, but he turned back towards the building.

“Be upstairs in five minutes.” He stopped as he opened the door and chuckled.

“Or however long it takes a pregnant Omega needs to get up some stairs.”

Sherlock waited, shivering, waiting until Jim ventured deep inside the building and wouldn’t see him. He ran as fast as his pregnant body would to the side of the building and threw up, vomiting hot and fast, burning his throat. He cried softly as he did it and hurried to dig through his pockets. He was scared, he was so scared, and right now he knew he had no choice. 

Sherlock sniffled as he stood up, hugging his belly with shaking hands. He stared at the door and wondered if it was even smart to go in at this point. 

He climbed the few steps to slowly push the door open. Sherlock was almost instantly warm, and he pulled the parkas hood off his head. He started the wobbly ascend to the top of the steps. Huffing and breathing as he climbed. Leaving the suite had been rare for him since he had been rare and climbing the stairs was just another torture device that Jim had decided to place on the pregnant Omega. Sherlock was sweating and out of breath by the time he had reached the top floor and he whimpered the rest of the walk to the penthouse suite. 

He wanted to collapse against the door once he was inside, but Sherlock knew he would fall asleep if he sat on the floor. 

“Finally, you’re back.” Sherlock looked up, the sweat that had collected in his brow running down his face. His son was moving constantly, anxious and scared inside his womb. Sherlock watched as Jim exited the kitchen and moved towards the living room, carrying a glass of wine and a glass of water for Sherlock. He licked his lips and reached for it, but Jim held it back.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you tonight.” Jim smiled that cold grin and Sherlock felt himself tremble. He thought the threats of being desecrated and thrown over a bridge into icy waters were enough for Jim, but apparently not. Sherlock watched as Jim moved to the living room and set the cup of water on the able, and took a sip of his wine. There was a thick, black paddle on the table, and a riding crop. Sherlock swallowed heavily as Jim settled onto the end of the L-shaped couch, placing his leg across his knee and taking another sip from his wine glass. He gestured to Sherlock with a wave of his hand.

“Why don’t you remove your jacket, love? It’s alittle warm in here.” Sherlock swallowed and slowly removed his jacket to hang it up. He was shaking and his head was fuzzy. He never wanted to move into his mind palace, but doing so right now would be a bad idea. Sherlock turned and placed his parka on the coat hanger, taking a moment to stare at the coat Mycroft had given him. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he slowly turned back around, slipping out of his shoes and standing stock still, as much he could with being six months pregnant, and trembled before Jim.

The Irish man smiled at him, fury in his dark eyes. Sherlock suddenly wished he could feel the emotions of the Irish man, to understand more than just what he could deduce from looking at him. Jim was angry, far angrier than Sherlock could fathom, but he was so delighted to have a chance to extort his dominance over the Omega. He gestured towards the couch in front of the black paddle.

“Why don’t you sit, love?”” Sherlock felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he waddled over slowly, trying to keep a calm composure and not show any sign of fear. He held his tears back as much as he could.

“Jim, y-you don’t have to do this.” Sherlock stood, but when Jim stood up fast, he fell into the couch practically. He shook as he readjusted his sitting situation and looked up into Jim’s face, which no longer held the sickening grin, but instead was harsh, set and cold. His eyes looked black and Sherlock swallowed, watching as the Alpha adjusted, straightening his clothes and moving his head back, like a snake ready to capture its prey. He pulled gently at the collar of his shirt.

“No, I do. You see, if you’re riding a horse, and they decide to start bucking, eventually you’ll get hit. They’ll rear their head back and you’ll be hit by the back of its skull.” Jim walked around the table slowly and stood in front of it, across from Sherlock now.

“Then, you’ll have to take charge of the horse, ignore the pain and blood you feel. Because if you don’t, the bloody thing won’t learn. It’ll think it’s better than you and do it over and over again.” Jim craned his neck to the side.

“I am the rider, you see. You are the horse. Did you think I could just let this go?” Sherlock swallowed. His mouth was dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of it. His son kicked and he rubbed his belly, trying to calm him down. Sending anything through their bond was not an easy thing to do at this moment in time, because Sherlock knew his son would feel nothing but his pain and fear.

“I leave for business, and I come home, with gifts, excited to see my Omega, excited to hear the news about my child I haven’t received yet. I don’t even know the gender, for fucks sake!” Jim kicked the coffee table and Sherlock watched as it cracked, and shattered, falling to the floor. Jim turned and hit something off the mantle, a picture frame. It shattered across the room and he turned back, pressing a hand to push his hair back and straighten it, attempting to calm down. He began to loosen his tie and Sherlock tried so very hard to keep a calm look on his face, but he knew in front of Jim he looked small, frail. Something Jim could destroy and rebuild as many times as he wanted.  
Sherlock watched him turn his head.

“Sebastian!” Heavy footsteps thundered and the two watched as the Beta appeared in the room. He had obviously been eavesdropping, and swallowed heavily at the damage in the room. He didn’t look at Sherlock, and the Omega knew if he did, Jim would be able to deduce more about the Beta than he had before.

“Pick up the paddle.” Jim instructed, and Sebastian looked at the black leather paddle in the pile of glass on the floor.

“Jim, there’s no need for this.”

“I said, do it!” Jim stepped up to the Beta, who was merely an inch or two taller than him. They were so close, their noses were touching and Jim hissed at him.

“Pick it up, tiger. Not like you haven’t used it before.” Jim hissed. Sebastian swallowed.

“Why should I? Why should I listen to you and keep doing your dirty work?” Sherlock shook but could see the fire that was set in Jim’s eyes, and knew that either they do what he said or face worse than this. He lowered his head and inhaled deeply, knowing it would be better to just face this and get it over with. Pain was not something that was foreign to him.

“Sebastian, just do what he says.” Sherlock said quietly, shocked he could even work out any words despite his dry mouth. Sebastian looked at him, afraid for a moment, but Sherlock nodded softly. Sebastian swallowed as he stepped forward, the glass crackling under his feet as he gently pushed through the pile of shards to pick up the paddle.

“Good boy.” Jim breathed, earning a dirty look from the Beta as he turned back in his stooped position. He slapped him, making Sebastian hiss as his cheek burned. Sherlock’s right hand shook, but he grabbed it with his left and held it down to prevent it from shaking any further. He tried to breathe easy, but the Beta and Alpha’s standoff was interrupted by the Alpha turning to Sherlock.

“Take your clothes off and get on the couch, backwards.” Sherlock swallowed, and slowly stood.

“Jim, ple-“

“Do it.” Sherlock felt his spine shiver as he began to slowly undress. Buttons and zippers were undone, and Sherlock felt his vulnerability build as his clothes dropped to the floor softly, and he turned to kneel on the couch. His thighs and muscles ached enough with the continuous strain of moving so much while he constantly carried the bearing weight of his son.

He kneeled on the couch and groaned as he pressed his bulging womb into the back of the couch. Sherlock shook as his naked thighs were being groped, touched by the Alpha. 

He wanted to shake his head and hiss because this was not his Alpha. 

The constant looming truth that his Alpha was not here to help him was something that Sherlock tried to forget.

Sherlock listened as Jim whispered to the Beta, harsh words slithering from his mouth. Sherlock was desperate to turn around and see what would happen, but he was afraid of the backlash he might’ve received. Footsteps were soft and padding as they grew closer to him, and Sherlock looked up as Jim was in front of him, suddenly bent over so he could grasp the Omega and hold him down tight, gripping his wrists so he wouldn’t move. His eyes were dark and unforgiving, but trickling with delight.

“I can’t do what I think you truly deserve for your punishment without possibly hurting my child. So, be thankful your womb is full of a growing pup…otherwise, this would be much, much worse.” He hissed, and then nodded at Sebastian behind him. 

Sherlock gasped as Jim hurriedly gripped both his wrists in one hand and his other pulled Sherlock’s skin taut. It was a slight burn and t-

SMACK.

Sherlock screeched as the overbearing pain of fire hit his skin and he realized now that Jim was forcing Sebastian to beat the omega. It wasn’t just a punishment for Sherlock, but for Sebastian. 

“Don’t stop. I want his back red, and bleeding.” Sherlock inhaled deeply, and gripped the couch as hard as he could, scrabbling fingernails digging in. More lashes were delivered, hard and thick, burning. The leather paddle obviously was wood covered with leather, but lord did it hurt. His back ached from a few hits. Sherlock didn’t know how long Jim intended this to go on, but he knew he would faint before they finished.

Sherlock was red, burning and sweating, crying and writhing with pain by the twentieth hit or so, and he knew Jim had no intentions on making Sebastian, who wavered and hesitated every few hits, stop the punishment.

Jim finally stood, and let go of Sherlock’s back, dropping his wrists. Sherlock felt like his thighs were about to collapse under him and the last –hour? Two hours? - His son had been panicking inside his mother.

Sherlock wanted so badly to comfort his own son, but he knew nothing could be done. His entire being was full of nothing but pain and fear, anxiety welling up inside of him. His tears had stopped, but his entire self was flooded with hurting, an emotional ache that wouldn’t go away. The physical pain had all but numbed him by now.  
Sherlock went to turn and stand, to rush to his nest, when Jim grabbed his shoulder and forced Sherlock to look up at him with a grip to his jaw.

“Don’t tense up, love.” Sherlock’s eyes grew wide and he attempted to wriggle away, but he felt the Beta start to push inside of him, and he cried out. He arched his swollen womb into the couch and sobbed as Jim held him down, delight in his eyes as Sherlock attempted to breathe easy, but trembling in pain.

It was only over once Jim had finally walked around the couch and forced the Beta off, finishing off into the Omega by himself. The rocking of his hips as he brought himself to an orgasm from the Omega’s pain was something that made Sherlock feel the need to vomit all over the back of the couch.

The black dots hovering in his vision seemed to expand with every slow blink.

X~X

His nest was nothing like it had been before. A safe haven, a place of comfort. The idea of it being a place for him to get away from society and issues was not inevitable in a physical space. 

After awakening in his own bed, Sherlock came to the realization that it was dark and he was alone. He sat up as much as his round stomach would allow and sighed, looking down and rubbing his engorged belly. His son laid dormant inside, asleep, and Sherlock was thankful for that.

He silently stood from the bed, moving through the dark room as silently as he could, moving closer to the door that was cracked open, the only thing that was illuminated by dim light. His body ached, and Sherlock was shocked he could even move at all, but he tried his best to ignore the throbbing pain his back that started firing up. He peeked out into the hallway, before daring to stick his head out. His neck was burning, but he ventured into the wall, sliding through the small door opening as much as a pregnant omega could.  
He slowly walked down the hall, looking for signs of the Beta and the Alpha. He stopped when he heard voices wavering from another room down the hall and he slowly ventured towards it, moving slowly because his back was on fire. He pondered if he was bleeding.

He stopped in front of the door and put an ear to the wood, listening in as the two in the room discussed. Sherlock could hear Jim speaking to Sebastian, almost hissing at him in a low voice, while Sebastian spoke louder.

“What you did was completely unacceptable.”

“What I did? Why is it when you stick your high and mighty fucking cock in another bitch, its perfectly reasonable? I didn’t do anything but the same damn thing that you did when you first moved me into this fucking building, when you started a fucking whorehouse, or hell, when you brought Sherlock around as your fucking favorite.”

A slap of skin was heard and Sherlock cringed, knowing quite well that Jim had just smacked Sebastian across the face.

“I don’t fucking care, Sebastian, don’t fucking do it again. I am the Alpha, I have claim to him.”

“And what if you didn’t? Would you care then? Would you care if I took your precious little Omega favorite and left?”

Silence. 

Sherlock could hear pounding in his ears, slowly mingling with another set of low pounding. He blinked and realized he was also listening to his son’s heartbeat at the same time.

“What are you trying to say, Sebastian?”

It was quiet.

“Nothing. I was trying to prove a fucking point.”

“No, no, you meant it. What do you think you’re gonna do? “Jim chuckled, low and sourly.

“Nothing involving you.” Another slap, harder this time. Sherlock realized it mustve been a punch instead.

“Nothing at all, you understand? Sherlock won’t leave after tonight. You saw him, crying, screaming on the couch.He won’t trust you ever and I made sure of it. I’ll make sure his Omega is so reclusive to anything around him-“

“You and I both well know that Sherlock has a mind of his own, and hes so smart, so much smarter than you might know. He won’t fall for any of these scare tactics you put on him. That punishment you made me give him last night might’ve hurt him, but it wont stop him.”

“It doesn’t matter what you say, or what he might try. Sherlock won’t leave, because heres a little something about the bond between Alphas and Omegas you might not know about, you silly little Beta- when separated for too long, the Omega and the Alpha have a large possibility of dying without stimulation from the other.”

Sherlock felt his heart began to beat faster in his chest as silence grew between the two in the room.

“I’m not fucking dealing with this anymore.” Sebastian said quietly. A small clattering was heard, and Sherlock couldn’t resist. He peeked into the office, and saw Sebastians rings rolling on the floor.

“I want a divorce. I don’t want to live in this fucking brothel you call a home for me, especially when you get to leave and go relax in that fucking inner city penthouse overlooking London with a whore or two.” 

“tut, tut, baby. I won’t sign the fucking papers, besides, this was a place for you to keep a low profile, especially after your “honorable discharge” from the army, General Morgan.” Sherlock watched Jim grin widely as Sebastian hung his head and squeezed his fists. Jim took the few steps between them and grabbed Sebastians face, forcing him to look up.

“You, are not worthy of anything, I’ve ever given you. I’m finally seeing that now.” He patted Sebastians cheek and then slapped him, holding his face in place as the eta cringed. Sherlock trembled and grabbed the shirt he was wearing, crumpling the fabric in his hands.

“So, what? You’re gonna make me leave now?” Sebastian said quietly, angrily, hissing the words at Jim. As light chuckle ensued

“Course not. We’re still married aren’t we?”

Sherlock trembled as he watched Jim go and sit at his desk and type at the laptop for a moment. He waved at Sebastian, motioning for him to leave.

“Go. I have to make a conference call.”

Sherlock backed away quickly, and darted back to his bedroom as soon as he could. He hid behind the door, peeking through the crack, as Sebastian left the room and closed the door to Jim’s office. He paused in the dimly lit hall for a moment, then lashed out. His fist hit the wall, no, went through the wall. He panted for a moment, his broad chest heaving, before he straightened and walked down the hall. Sherlocks eyes opened wide and he waited for Sebastian to pass by. Instead he stopped by Sherlock’s bedroom, hand hovering over the knob. Sherlock took a step back, intending to go back to bed and let Sebastian be. The wood creaked beneath him and he stopped, his skin prickling with goosebumps. Sebastian very slowly opened the door a bit wider.

“Sherlock?” he whispered. The two looked at one another, the darkness of the room not showing enough to tell what the other was thinking. Sebastian stepped into the room, and pushed the door back, closing it with his foot, before pressing himself into Sherlock, hands trailing up his body.

“Sebastian, I heard everything.” He said quickly. After knowing what had been discussed in the other room, he wasn’t sure how to feel about the situation at hand. Sebastians hands stopped moving, but gripped him a little tighter. Sherlock looked up, feeling so small next to the Beta.

“Is it true?” he whispered, brushing Sherlock’s hair back. Sherlock wanted so much to press into Sebastians chest, his cologne smelling so enticing.

“Yes. Without an Alpha to satisfy my Omega once I’m bonded…I could possibly die.” Sebastian blinked, and Sherlock’s eyes had adjusted enough to finally see the bruises forming on his face.

“So, it would never be possible for me to be with you?” Sherlock blinked and stepped back, pulling away from him.

“No. But I doubt you would have ever had these feelings for me if I had never…” Sherlock straightened his aching body with a heavy inhale. Sebastian frowned.

“How can you say that? After…I’ve stuck up for you, Sherlock. I don’t want Jim anymore.” He said quietly. Both of them were silent for a moment and Sherlock listened for Jim moving around in the house, but besides the rushing of blood in his ears, he could only hear the distant, continuous talking of Jim in his office. He turned his attention back to Sebastian.

“It…it just wont work, Sebastian.” Sebastian fell to his knees, crumpling on a pile of clothes at Sherlock’s feet. He gripped his legs, holding them.

“Sherlock, please. I could support you, I could support the baby. I know its not mine, and its not Jim’s, but please, I’ll do it. I’ll find an Alpha to hire to live with us, so you’re omega will never be alone. I don’t care what I’ll have to do, just please.” Sherlock turned away, his hands not knowing where to go. He set them on Sebastians broad shoulders and gave a shuddery exhale.

“I…I have to leave Jim. I have to leave this community. I don’t belong here anymore.” Sebastian gripped his pajama pants and nuzzled his face into Sherlock’s inner thigh, earning a small squeak from the Omega.

“Sherlock, please-“

“I’ve already…I’ve already made up my mind, Seb.” Sebastian slowly shuddered, before he stood, and grasped sherlock’s face, kissing him deeply, their lips pressed together.

“Sherlock, I-“

“Please leave.” Sherlock exhaled quickly, knowing it would be better for them if they didn’t continue. Sebastian swallowed thickly and pulled his lips back by his teeth. He stepped back and left, hands falling from Sherlock’s body. The air was tense and quiet as the Beta left the room quietly, but Sherlock wanted to pretend he hadn’t just hurt him.

Once Sebastian was gone, Sherlock sighed and began rummaging for clothes on the ground that would be warm to wear. He needed to make a phone call, but would rather not use any phones that were in the house.

Once he had pulled on enough clothes, feeling fatter than he already was, he ventured out into the hall. Sebastian was nowhere in sight as he left the suite and he was felt happy that the Beta had disappeared off to somewhere else, but his Omega ached at such emotion he had felt in the last few weeks, but all but denied.

Sherlock stopped by the kitchen and rummaged in one of the drawers for a few things of change, hoping he had enough to use the payphone outside. He left and stepped into the living room, stopping as his sock clad feet stepped onto crackling glass. The living room still hadn’t been cleaned and he swallowed when he saw a few speckles of blood on the couch, then noticed another corner of the couch had a small puddle of a bloodstain, roughly the size of his hand. His stomach turned as he decided he didn’t want to know where that was from.

He waddled slowly down the dark staircase, taking time with each step as he pushed further down, cautious not to slip, despite feeling like he was already going to fall forward with the amount of weight that was on him.

Once at the bottom of the staircase, he realized how tightly he had been gripping the rail and let go with a shaking hand. His fingers burned from sliding it against the rough, aged metal and he shook his hand to get feeling back as he wandered outside into the blistery cold. It nipped at his skin as he trudged across the street, noticing how dark it really was outside now.

He walked down the dark street, holding his large belly that was snuggled comfortably between the layers of his parka, holding it for comfort as he made his way to the streets corner, where a phonebooth resides. He looked up at the stoplight slowly blinking, changing from light to light as no cars drove by to satisfy its changing.

He opened the door to the phone booth, shoving the door with rusty hinges open with his shoulder, before stepping and closing the door. The little booth didn’t provide any heat, but Sherlock hadn’t expected it to. He inserted a few coins into the coin operated phone and put the phone to his ear. He bit his lip for a moment, before pushing the buttons on the little machine. The numbers dialed in his ear as he prayed the number was the same as it had been last time.  
It began ringing and Sherlock stood there and waited, breathing more and more heavily as the phone continued to ring. Sherlock knew hanging up was not an option.

Finally, it clicked and someone picked up.

“You do happen to realize what time it is, my dear brother?”

Sherlock shuddered as his brothers voice came through the receiver and for once he was happy to hear the Alphas voice.

“Mycroft.”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

Sherlock was hesitant to say anything else. Nervous that his brother wouldn’t accept him, despite his proposal. Sherlock felt he had taken too long to ask the favor of his brother taking him in.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to beg his brother to get him. His body hurt, his chest hurt, and Sherlock felt the walls of his mind palace crumbling. 

Before he could speak, Mycroft spoke out.

“You know, Sherlock, all you need to do is ask.”

Sherlock felt weight lift off of his shoulders and he turned and looked into the glass of the booth, his relfection looking back at him. His eyes were bloodshot and the bags underneath them were flushed and heavy. He was so pale, and a bruise had formed around his jaw and mouth, his lips dry and bright red, ready to crack and bleed because of the nippy air outside.

Sherlock trembled as tears began sliding down his gaunt, thin face. He was frightened, but Mycrofts soothing words made him feel warm despite the oncoming freeze.

“Mycroft. I need you. Please, I-I need you.” It was quiet, but he knew Mycroft was smiling on the other side of the phone.

“I’ll be sending someone over soon.”

Sherlock breathed easily now, 

“Thank you.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is pure shit. My brain is liquid mush from typing so much. I love the support from all of you, though.

John’s back was _fucking on fire._

He panted quietly, hanging over the edge of his bed as he felt searing pain run up and down his spine. He clutched the mattress, holding his phone in the other as he attempted to stay awake despite the pain.

And he was scared. So frightened. His entire being was shivering with pain and anxiety as he lay there. He heard a knock on his front door, and he raised himself up as much as he could without succumbing to the black circles around his vision.

“Come in.” He shocked himself by speaking in a gravelly voice but he hung his head once the door opened and shut really quickly. He heard faint breathing and footsteps as Mike moved into the room, delicately, knowing nothing of John’s actual state than what he had told him over the phone. The desire to not have his throat ripped out by a purebred Alpha was strong.

Mike hissed quietly as he stepped closer to John, before sitting on the bed next to the wriggling, sweaty Alpha.

“John, I thought maybe you fell down some steps or-or something but-“

“How, bad, is it?” John hissed through gritted teeth. Mike swallowed heavily, feeling his stomach turn, but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a subtle picture for John, before showing him. John looked at the small screen, trying not to feel more sick at the mottled and bruised back that didn’t look like his anymore.

He exhaled and twisted as much as he could to make eye contact with Mike.

“It’s from my Omega.” He breathed out, before turning back to lay flat on his bed. Mike sat next to him, opening his case he brought along. John groaned in agony as Mike began rubbing ointment onto his back.

“Well, John, I hate to frighten you already more than you probably are, but these bruises and marks-“

‘Theyre getting beat up, please tell me something I don’t already know.” John hissed as his cheek started to ache.

“Not just beat up, deliberately hit…Like, probably as punishment.” John craned his neck to look at Mike.

“What do you mean?” Mike sighed as he rubbed more ointment into John’s back, before putting the bottles away and closing his case with a simple flourish.

“Your Omega is getting beaten as punishment, probably by whoever he lives with. You cant see it yourself, but the bruises are shaped like a paddle or some long, wide object, and the hits aren’t random.” John hissed and groaned in pain as his back muscles began twitching in pain.

“I can’t necessarily give you anything because the pain is there, but its not. Your omega is suffering, so you are too. It should go away within a few days.” John attempted to sit up, but groaned as pain shot down his spine.

“John.” He looked up at Mike, whos concern was blatant on his face. John shook his head, feeling anxiety making his stomach bubble.

“I know what you’re going to say-“

“Let. It. Go, John. Your Omega has caused you nothing short of pain and misery over these past few weeks since the bond has been opened and frankly, I haven’t seen you getting any closer to find them.” John straightened and sat up quickly, ignoring the pain as he gripped the bed frame.

“I have.” He breathed out, uneasily. Mike shook his head.

“No, you really haven’t.” he said quietly. John stood and mike blinked in surprise.

“john you need to rest, you won’t-“

“So, what? Am I just supposed to drop all of the time ive spent on them in the trash, like theyre rubbish on the sidewalk?” The two men looked at each other, one with a neutral, understanding that his friend needed help in a different way than what he could provide, and one with fire in his eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.” Mike said quietly.

“Then what _did_ you mean!” John shouted, anger tugging at him. His Alpha was pushing to the surface fast and Mike was afraid.

“I meant…if they really wanted to come back to you, John, they would have. You’re wasting your own time. You’re not even fully bonded, you said so yourself. You might have a chance with someone else and frankly, I think you need to take that chance, damn it, John.” John stifled, stopped and looked at his own feet. Mike knew he was calming down, but knew he might not be able to convince John otherwise.

John sat on the bed and gripped the frame, sitting there in silence for a moment.

The tap in the sink dripped for a moment and the room was illuminated by passing cars and the streetlamp, for people walked up and down the streets. John shook softly, and mike coudnt tell  if it was pain or sadness.

“Just, one more time.  Once more, I’ll try and find them, Mike, then I-I’ll stop.  I will. I won’t try again.” Mike’s eyebrows furrowed together, but John’s set face was determination in mind. He shook his head as he turned to leave.

“What you _need_ is some professional help, but this is just from one doctor to another.” He started towards John’s door as he heard the Alpha give a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Mike, thank you!”

The door shut loudly and John slowly laid back down, trying to get comfortable in the last couple of hours he had to rest.

**X~X**

The sun was just starting to come up as Sherlock shuffled between the bedroom and the bathroom, packing up everything he could take with him that would be convenient.

He didn’t know why he needed a four ounce bottle of Guerlain Le Bouquet de la Mariée, but he placed it in his suitcase anyway.

Sherlock looked around the room once he clicked shut his messy suitcase, padding back out softly in his soft socks. He carefully walked to the still damaged living room and placed his suitcase down outside the door, shutting the front door with a soft click, before turning back. The sun was barely creeping up the sky and Sherlock hoped he could get out before anyone noticed him missing.

He slipped back into the bedroom to retrieve his shoes, and stopped, remembering he had left Mycroft’s coat on the bed, along with a blanket he would very much like to have with him during the labor, which was the specific reason as to its purchase. Sherlock swallowed heavily and glided quietly across the room, picking up the two items quickly. He slid the coat on him, thankful for mycroft’s larger build that the coat just barely fit his widening pregnant body.

He carried the blanket out to the living room with him, shuddering breathes as his shoes crackled on the glass that had seemed to trail its way into the hall.

Sherlock was almost there, almost out. He knew if he was caught he-

A hand grabbed his arm and Sherlock froze, a cold sweat beginning at the base of his neck, a droplet running down his back. He turned slowly, trying to keep calm as Jim’s hand tightened on his wrist. The Alpha looked tired, his hair out of place and sticking up, still clad in his sleepwear. Sherlock chuckled as Jim stood to his full height and rubbed his face, bloodshot eyes looking down at Sherlock in an unforgiving manner.

“Praytell, where does my little Omega think he’s wandering off to in the wee hours?” Sherlock trembled, but pressed a fake grin onto his face, hoping the tired Jim would see through it. Tired Jim was the only one Sherlock could fool most of the time.

“I, I got hungry. I figured, leaving to go get some fresh breakfast would be a nice surprise after yesterday’s fiasco, sir.” He blinked at him, smiling, hoping Jim would be knocked up on enough narcotics he regularly took to make it seem like Sherlock was being truthful.

Jim let go, arm dangling by his side, then he looked down at Sherlock’s blanket, and frowned.

“Why do you have a blanket?” He slurred, and Sherlock gripped the soft, beige fleece.

“It’s cold outside.” He quickly stated. Jim swayed for a moment, before waving Sherlock off.

“Don’t wander, just go get the damn food.” Jim stumbled back to the bedroom and Sherlock heard him thump on the bed. Where Jim had been sleeping before, he had no idea.

Sherlock grabbed the parka on the hook by the door and shut the door quietly, knowing Jim would eventually come to his sense and rush out to find the omega gone.

Sherlock grabbed the suitcases outside the door and shuffled down the stairs, grapsing everything under one arm as he gripped the railing, moving as fast as a pregnant Omega could without having the threat of falling.

Once on the first level, Sherlock could hear doors opening, and looked up to see other inhabitants opening their doors, and at the top, the door busted off, flew over the railing and Sherlock watched as the suites door hit the ground a few feet from him. Speckles of wood flew around him as shrieking and yelling resounded throughout the building, and Jim began rushing down the steps, clad in nothing but his pajama pants and a ripped shirt. Sherlock felt his heart begin to thump wildly and he rushed to the door, pushing himself out of the building as he heard the prostitutes inside screaming as a raged Jim flew past them.

Outside, the black town car was waiting on the curb and Sherlock wanted to cry at seeing it. He didn’t hesitate and rushed forward, opening the door and shoving his bags inside, falling onto the seat as Jim burst through the door, standing on the sidewalk, staring at Sherlock. Sherlock could see his eyes were red and his body seemed larger, more muscular. Sherlock hesitated for a moment glancing between Jim, and the car, and-

He stopped and glanced up, seeing a small figure across the street . It took him but a moment to realize it was the Omega that had been their waiter, _months_ ago when Jim tried to get him pregnant.

The Omega’s belly was full and round and he held it as he stared at the two, glancing between Sherlock and the terrifying Jim.

Sherlock remembered what Sebastian had said about Jim feeling “ _a bond”_ and blinked slowly.

He didn’t get much time to stare as the door was slammed and the car pulled from the curb. Sherlock turned to see a young woman sitting next to him, texting on her phone, clad in a clean cut suit and skirt. Sherlock swallowed heavily.

“You work for Mycroft?” He asked breathlessly. She nodded, but never took her eyes off her phone. Sherlock felt sweaty and deranged next to her, but instead settled into the seat for the drive. He tried not to think about Jim, or what would happen to Sebastian, or any of the workers there.

Instead, his tired and aching body fell asleep against the warm leather.

**X~X**

Sherlock blinked as he realized his shoulder was being tapped and he turned to see the young woman shaking him softly.

“We’re here, Sherlock.” He blinked several times, realizing it was brighter outside now, and he turned to see the town car parked in front of a extravagant house, a ways back from the street with tall, iron-wrought gates. Sherlock noticed how they all had points on them, and nothing in between the gates that would give anyone room or ability to climb them.

_Security reasons._

Sherlock watched the young woman and the driver as they collected his bags and pulled them from the car. The driver reached for his blanket, but he shook his head quickly, his curls bouncing against his forehead. The driver backed off and stood, holding the door open for the pregnant Omega, to which then the young woman extended a hand to him. He hesitatingly took it and they gently pulled him from the car, his large belly making it difficult to stand up from such a low sitting car.

Once outside the vehicle, he blinked, the sky much more brighter than it had been earlier, and he surveyed the street. The houses were close, clean, cut. It was a private neighborhood, one most likely for officials and higher minority. Sherlock looked at Mycroft’s house, seeing as it was one of the few that had extra lawn room.

The door shut behind him, and Sherlock hurried to pick up his blanket, so it would not drag on the ground. They all walked to the large gate, where the young woman leaned towards a small camera, which Sherlock hadn’t noticed until she did so.

A green light next to it blinked and the gate made a clicking sound, to which she easily opened it. Security was obviously a priority.

The three made their way inside, toting Sherlock’s dirty bags. The driver walked behind him, and the woman in front, sandwiching him. Sherlock supposed it was for safety precautions, but he had no qualms about it. The house was a beauty, the manor’s door surrounded by two columns on both sides, being made of marble. Sherlock blinked, wondering why he had never seen Mycroft’s home before.

The large, black door was pushed open and the young woman ushered Sherlock inside, where he strode into a room where the ceiling was high enough that Sherlock had to crane his head back to see it. There was a iron chandlier above him, fit with electric candles, the hall was adorned with a room for coats and several bookshelves. He could see an archway ending the foyer, and forming the entry for the den, where the marble tile turned to dark oak flooring, and a trailing carpet for the foyer ended also. The house was decorated and Sherlock knew Mycroft shared his parents taste for over, explicit and expensive decorating.

The clicking of shoes sounded and Mycroft appeared around the corner, his face set and serious, as two maids bustled past him, carrying sheets, walking around the same corner of the den Mycroft had appeared. He smiled as he approached the trio.

“Sherlock, welcome.” He gestured to the house with a sweep of his arms.

“This, is now yours. Please, come in.” Sherlock stepped in, trembling.

Despite the extravagant welcome and the house, Sherlock’s only focus was now the Alpha in the room. He dropped his blanket, dragging it behind him as he approached Mycroft, feeling hazy in his brother’s presence.

He grasped the Alpha, sliding his hands around his waist, pushing his pregnancy bump into Mycroft’s stomach. The Alpha was taken aback for a moment, but chuckled as Sherlock’s Omega slid into control and he began kissing Mycroft’s neck. He gave a small shove and Mycroft stumbled back towards the wall. Sherlock was gone, Mycroft could see this as his brother’s pupils turned to slits, and he waved the driver and his assistant, Anthea, away.

“Cancel anything I have today, postpone my calls. I’ll be busy.” Sherlock’s hands were unbuttoning his suit and Mycroft was partially naked by the time the two left the room. Sherlock began to hike his leg up Mycroft’s but nearly fell from not supporting his pregnant weight. He gently pushed the whimpering Omega away and pulled his clothes back on, feeling hot and needy already.

“Come, Sherlock. We must keep up appearances.” He said breathily. He grasped Sherlock’s hand as he led him through the den, to the winding staircase. He slowly helped Sherlock up the stairs, and eventually they reached his bedroom. He despised the maids for tucking the sheets in so tight, but he ripped them off as he pushed Sherlock onto the mattress, making sure the pregnant Omega would land safely. He kissed his brother, knowing how taboo it would feel later, but Mycroft turned his thoughts away.

He began to hurriedly disrobe his brother, smiling gleefully when he pulled off his own coat and threw it to the ground. Sherlock grabbled at him, gripping his hair and pulling him down for a long kiss. Mycroft took the awkward angle Sherlock had raised up to pull off his bottoms, sliding them over his hips. He wriggled them down without ease, but was happy when he finally had the naked Omega on his bed, in nothing but thick, wool socks and an open button-up shirt. Mycroft rejoiced in the fact he had his brother laying in front of him, so far in his pregnancy. His nipples were thick and swollen and his breasts were starting to swell. Considering male’s were normally flat up until the sixth or seventh month of pregnancy, and only grew to be an inch or two from the chest, Sherlock’s were swollen as big as they woukd possibly get. This still delighted Mycroft and he gripped them softly, rolling the small globes. Sherlock would not need a nursing bra, and Mycroft delighted in the fact he would have access to the puffy nipples easier.

Mycroft bent down and suckled them, licking around the erect right nipple, twiddling and rolling the other in his fingers. He could feel Sherlock’s male genitals hard and erect against his own body, gripping the sheets. Mycroft slithered his fingers down, trailing over Sherlock’s body.

He could feel himself slipping into his Alpha, and he wanted to hurry and make sure Sherlock was ready before he did. Sherlock’s Omega had turned him into a mindless creature, and Mycroft knew it would be a short time before he was there too.

Once he found Sherlock’s cock, he rubbed his fingers down, brushing it as he searched past Sherlocks male anatomy. Despite being born a male, an Omega had no testicles, and Mycroft was happy once his fnigers slid into Sherlock’s wet opening, slipping his finger in and out. Sherlock mewled and cried, squirming as much as he could. His round, bulbous womg was so enticing to Mycroft, and for a moment he wondered if he would be able to fill Sherlock with his own pups after this one.

He undressed fast, and felt his Alpha cock land on Sherlock’s thick thighs once he wrestled the damn thing from its fabric confines. He growled when Sherlock closed his legs, the skin and heat massaging the thick cock. He ached, and pre-cum was already dribbling from his monstrous head.

Sherlock mewled, his eyes half-shut and wet, his pupils a slit as Mycroft grabbed his brothers small hands and worked them furiously on his cock, rubbing the pre cum up and down, making him wet for Sherlock’s small opening. Sherlock’s thick soft curls were scattered across the pillow and Mycroft contemplated on gripping them.

He lowered his cock to Sherlock’s opening slowly, and pushed. The tight, wetness of the Omega’s hole was something else, and he knew this was not something he could’ve found elsewhere, because Sherlock was bonded and pregnant.

Mycroft fucked, slipping in and out, trying to get deeper and deeper as he fucked his little brother, his little Omega. He wanted so badly to claim him as his own, and had missed that chance because of some other.

His Alpha was taking over and Mycroft lost it, knowing he roughly pounded his brother, forcing his brother back onto the bed. Sherlock mewled, cried and screamed in euphoria, his hand gripping his small Omega cock, another on his stomach.

Mycroft didn’t know how long it went on. Just the steady rhythm of his hips clapping against Sherlock’s.

He orgasmed, the best damn orgasm of his life, and collapsed, yanking his heaving, crying brother into him as they both breathed, panting and hazy from what had proceeded.

**X~X**

John was aching, hard. His whole body was warm and all he wanted to do was fuck.

It most certainly didn’t help that he was standing in the foyer of a brothel. The door was busted and he could see prostitutes scattered about, smoking, lazy, sitting in the laps of their customers as they flirted. There was a broken door lying in the middle of the room that no one seemed to care for and John gripped his jacket sleeves, eyebrows furrowing.

He didn’t know how he ended up here, but he had known one way to seek your bond mate was to push through the bond and follow where it lead. The last place John knew his Omega had been, was here. From there, his bond was closed off and there was nowhere to turn.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see a skimpy, dressed Omega, a male, adorned with makeup that flattered his eyes and cheekbones.

“Searching for anything specific, sweet’eart?” john swallowed, but this Omega didn’t tempt as much as soft blue eyes and thick dark curls did, the same ones that had been haunting his dreams and nightmares.

“A-actually, I was looking for someone.” The omega nodded.

“Ohh, so youre looking for someone specific? Did you hear about them or have you had them before or..?” John shook his head.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know. Can I just describe them? Maybe you can tell me.” The Omega crossed his arms and pinched his lips together.

“Are you a cop?” John shook his head and opened his jacket.

“No badge, see? I’m not here for that, I’m trying to find someone. He was young, a-an Omega. He had dark brown, maybe black curls, and his eyes were really blue, like bath water almost.” The Omega clucked his tongue.

“That’s a vague description, love.” John sighed.

“I know, but I don’t have much else to go on, except like, a blue robe and a thin face.” The Omega tapped his chin dramatically, black nails picking at his teeth.

“thing face? Did he have these to die for cheekbones?”

John blinked and thought for a moment. He was shocked to remember that the Omega had gorgeous, sharp cheekbones.

“Yes, yes that’s the one.” The Omega made a pause and stopped. Then he stepped back, frightened as he looked at John.

“I-I’m so sorry, but you have to leave, I-I can’t help you.” John grabbed the small Omega out of anger,and watched him squeak, but then let go gently. He raised his hands to show he meant no harm.

“Please. I’m just looking for him. It’s important I find him.” The small omega was stiff as he looked around, making sure no one heard.

He nodded his head towards the stairs.

“Fine, but come on upstairs, act like a customer. It doesn’t seem so sketchy.” John scoffed as he looked around.

“it’s a whorehouse, come on.”The little omega scoffed back.

“Whats so bad about being a whore? You want your info or not?” John scratched the back of his head and followed him as the small Omega lead him upstairs, clicking in his heels as he grabbed John’s hand. He pushed John into a room on the third floor, and shut the door.

“I’m not looking for any services, please-“ he started, exhausted by this Omega’s behavior at this point, but the omega rolled his eyes and leaned against the door.

“You’re looking for the boss’s Omega.” John stopped and frowned.

“Continue.”

“The boss’s Omega, the pimp? Sugar daddy? I don’t know what else to call ‘im, love. He lives upstairs every now and then in the penthouse, owns all of us. He had this adorable little Omega, exactly how you described. Thw little babe is off-limits, and pregnant. Until this morning.” John blinked.

“What happened?” the little Omega shuffled his feet.

“What do I get out of this, ‘ove?” He wriggled his fingers and John sighed, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a few quid. He put it into the hands of the awaiting Omega, who dropped it into his pocket. He leaned against the door and crossed his legs.

“Look, the Omega ran out. He was a little coke addict, and the boss supplied him. Then, he decided ‘e didn’t want his pretty Beta husband ‘e ‘as, and dumped ‘im for the Omega. All three of them lived upstairs until this morning. The Omega ran out and left the boss. He threw a fit and threw the door off his suite.”

John thought back to the door lying downstairs on the floor and shook his head.

“Wait, I’m so lost.” He rubbed his nose and the Omega sighed.

“Our boss, was married. To a Beta. He took in this little Omega you’re looking for a while back, and decided to keep ‘im as a pet. He then, dumped ‘is pretty Beta for the Omega. Omega ran out on him this morning. I guess he couldn’t take it.” The omega chuckled as he twisted his short hair around his finger.

“I wouldn’t mind being the boss’s little fuck beast.” John felt sick, and nodded awkwardly at the Omega.

“Okay, thank you.” John opened the door underneath the Little Omega and attempted to slide past, but the dominant-acting omega threw an arm up and stopped John from leaving. John looked back at the Omega with shaggy black hair, and pursed glossy lips. He winked at John.

“You didn’t hear any of that from me. You should come back and visit me if youre ever interested in some other services _besides_ my mouth.” The Alpha felt hot and moved past when the Omega let him. He hurried downstairs, flustered and embarrassed at the information he had just received. John felt like he had to leave that moment, the contents of his stomach whirling around in a haze.

The omega he had been searching for belonged to another man.

Well, not technically anymore.

John pondered for a moment as he slowly moved down the staircase. The Omega was probably being taken care of by the…”boss” As the other one had put it, but from the state of things, this wasn’t a place for him.

John couldn’t fathom the amount of abuse and self-hatred he had from living in such a place, and it was no wonder he had so many bruises. John stopped at the bottom of the staircase, eyes on the floor, deep in thought, only brought out of it when his eyes caught onto a pair of shoes that were just a tad bit too nice for a place like this. The Italian leather shone and John had only seen the shoes online before. His eyes traveled up a pair of legs, a back, to the back of a head full of hair that was finely brushed back. He blinked, noticing how the man was just _too nice_ for this place. His suit was definetly posh and John couldn’t even begin to imagine what celebrity or political advisor would be here.

The male turned, and John and he made eye contact. His face was thin and from his standing, John knew he was an Alpha.

But he also knew he had the upperhand of being a _purebred_ next to this lowly Alpha. But the posh git was certainly threatening.

John and him held eye contact, until John couldn’t help but notice he had a grip on an smaller Omega next to him. He was clutching the Omega tightly, and John couldn’t help but notice the swell of a growing pup on him.  The pair seemed unlikely and dangerous. John didn’t want to intervene, and he slid past the two, with the Alpha’s eyes on him.

John didn’t think about it until he was outside, but someone being that posh in there with a pregnant Omega could’ve only been the “Boss.”

John looked back at the building as he slowly walked away.

His Omega was gone, and never coming back. John felt tears well up in his eyes as he realized his Omega would never trust another Alpha when he suffered the abuse of so many. That was the terrible part of being Omega. They could never learn to trust again.

**X~X**

Sherlock awoke, feeling soft and refreshed for the first time in a long time.

He looked up at the canopy above him, a sight to see that he had adjusted to.

Mycroft had finally moved him into his own bedroom, but only because Sherlock had pestererd him about needing a nest. The Alpha had provided him with every fabric and item that could’ve been used in a nest. The comfort it provided was nothing short of what Sherlock had felt since he first stepped into the house. The sex was delightful to his inner prime animal and he was fed and taken care of.

Sherlock sat up and rubbed his swollen womb, excitable about his pregnancy for once.

A knock on the door and Sherlock pulled the covers over himself.

“Come in.” The door opened and the young woman, Anthea, stepped in.

She turned and nodded at Sherlock as she approached his bed, tapping on her cellphone.

“Mycroft sent me in to tell you, he’s scheduled for you to meet with a tailor in the city, and you have a scheduled appointment with a doctor and ultrasound at three. From there, he’s suggested a registry shop for the baby, and after that youre free to do whatever, until seven, where hes requested you to meet with him for dinner.” She tapped on her phone a few more times and Sherlock blinked at her.

“I have appointments?” Anthea nodded slowly.

“He said you might need some time to adjust, so I’ll leave you be. Be ready by one, we need to get you fitted for some clothes by tonight.” Sherlock watched her leave, not knowing why Mycroft would do so much for him.

Sherlock stood and waddled to the bathroom, undressing carefully. He took in his appearance for once.

Sherlock realized then, what the toll of living there had done to him since he had left university and his family. His face was thin and gauntly, his cheekbones stuck out. His skin was pale and the track marks on his skin were something he hoped to hide with a shirt. He hoped the tailor would comply.

Sherlock ran his hand over his belly, noticing the pale skin was covered in stretch marks and veins he hadn’t taken the time to notice before.

He ran the bath and looked back in the mirror, watching it fog up.

Sherlock watched as his son kicked and stressed, his belly moving and pushing outwards softly.

Sherlock looked at the room behind him in the mirror and wondered if a mahogany crib would suit the room well.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I havent updated in forever. Motivation is lacking and I think I would enjoy drowning myself at the bottom of a bottle of liquor most nights.
> 
> Someone please help me.

Mycroft was not one to be amused by detours from his schedule.

He sighed as he stepped from the town car and swung his umbrella out, the tip hitting the ground with a simple clack that resounded through the warehouse. This was not an expected meeting and frankly, as he turned to look at the driver shot dead through the windshield, his temper grew more on edge. His security breach would need to be investigated and reported to his superiors. Mycroft was not one to worry but knowing now his driver was not the man his background had checked him to be was something that 

Mycroft would need to take as a precaution for future security measures.

The fact now a .302 was lodged in the seat behind the driver’s right eye was the main concern.

Mycroft sighed and pulled his coat around him as he approached the brightly lit area in the center. He could see lights from the streets shining through the windows, but knew nothing was close enough to the warehouse. 

Security measures or paranoia?

Mycroft hear the soft clicking of shoes and he gave a small cough.

“Care to explain why you put a bullet in my driver’s brain? Or would it be easier to explain this childish game is something that my superiors see as a threat?”

“As long as I’m getting attention from the Ice Man himself, I have no issue with it.” Mycroft turned and looked at Moriarty straight on, eye contact never breaking between the two.

“Is it attention you’re seeking or vengeance?” Moriarty sighed and stepped slowly into the light as Mycroft leaned onto his umbrella.

James Moriarty laughed and he lowered his head to swipe through his touch screen phone for a moment.

“Whichever appeases the older brother of the Holmes?” He eyed Mycroft.

“Or the only son of the Holmes?” James said slowly, a sly grin growing on his face.

“What is the real meaning behind this meeting, James?” Mycroft said in an icy tone. Jim sighed.

“Well it seems I’m in a predicament. I’ve just recently lost my Omega, my nearly ready to birth Omega, only to find out he never really was my bond mate.” James stood in front of   
Mycroft with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His face was one that could compare to a reptile. He clasped his hands together.

“You seem to be implying that this is my fault.” Mycroft’s leg ached from the way he leaned on his umbrella but he stood still, knowing shifting could change his body language and Jim could think of overpowering him in some way. Their alpha pheromones littered the air and Mycroft could smell the anger and lust from James.

“Oh, oh it is. I know you, I know your dirty obsession of having that little pseudo brother of yours followed constantly. He was full of seed back when another dirty wank decided to stick his cock in there, wasn’t he?” Mycroft kept his reserve and started calm as Jim laughed gleefully.

“And, and it seems you didn’t care, did you? Didn’t care at all when little Sherly was full of a pup. Your little concubine now. And now, I have another pup on the way it seems, from a little waiter.” Jim shifted and gave a small groan. Mycroft gave a small sigh and eventually did shift to standing straight.

“Again, why am I involved?” James shifted.

“Little Sherly owes me money, lots of money. And, that pup.” Mycroft did indeed shift himself more and turned his head down to glare at Jim.

“Sherlock’s child has no relation to you.”

“How do you know that?” Jim hissed. His hands untightened and dropped as he stepped closer to Mycroft.

“I think we should do a paternity test.” Jim said quietly. Mycroft’s jaw shifted around and he gripped his umbrella handle.

“Sherlock’s child is not yours, that is that. No test is needed to determine that.”

“Little Sherly isn’t even bonded!” Jim growled, continuing with, “That baby could be mine.”

“If you have your concerns about the child, file a lawsuit with the courts. Until then, leave my brother and I alone.”

“Like, I said, adorable Sherly also owes me a lot of money. Really, Ice Man, why do you think you can turn him into your little wifey? Raise the little bugger as your own? What about the day he finally finds out he’s not a real Holmes? When you try to wife him? I’ve already been told that you stuck it in him already. Sherlock owes me, money, and a child for my time dabbled in him. You gave him to me to use as I pleased, so long as I made sure he didn’t kill himself.” Mycroft stiffened, but shook his head.

“This meeting is over, James. Threatening me or Sherlock, or even his child is not a way for you to get what you want. I’m not going to give in to any demands about money or your ownership of a babe. Again, this is just a childish spat because you lost something you thought I gave him to you as a plaything. I gave you an Omega to bond with that had an intelligence level matching your own, and you give me whatever I ask in return. You haven’t submitted to me any information, and it seems every time I send someone around for you, you’re off in another country, on business or vacation, supposedly.” He turned and started walking, already reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone and contact a new driver.

“You’ll regret every move you’ve made the day Sherlock turns on you and you find him full of someone else’s pup.” Jim’s voice echoed and Mycroft stopped, turning to look at the Alpha. His physique had grown and his eyes were turning.

“Your Alpha is coming out. I suggest you keep track of it. And frankly, as long as my brother is happy with his decisions, I’m fine.” Jim’s physique slowed and Mycroft continued on his way out.

“I have a dinner to get to.”

XXXXX

Sherlock watched as the tailor walked around him a few times and measured, mainly focusing on his belly, which Sherlock had noticed to have swelled larger. Or maybe he was actually studying his body instead of just looking for once.

Sherlock tried his temptation by resisting running his hands over his belly as the tailor wrapped the measuring tape on his belly. 

The tailor stood after a moment and sighed, looking at Sherlock’s measurements.

“What an awkward body. “He mumbled. Sherlock frowned and looked down at himself.

“Is there something wrong with my body?” He questioned as the tailor began to shift through clothing he had hanging up.

“Yes, your baby is hanging low, your belly is heavy, but your body, your shoulders are too thin. A nice, bonded Omega always has a full frame, so long as he’s being fed well and   
treated nicely by his Alpha.” 

Sherlock watched as the man selected a purple dress shirt and held it out, looking at it before measuring it. Sherlock frowned as the man measured it, and held it to Sherlock’s skin.

“This feels to be a nice hue for your pale skin.” He glanced at Sherlock before walking away to set it aside for altercations.

“Purple? It seems very dark.” Sherlock mumbled. The little old man looked at him through thick rimmed glasses. 

“Oh please professional, tell me how it’s done.” He huffed at Sherlock. Sherlock pulled his lips in and looked away.

“I’m sorry, please continue.” The man nodded at Sherlock.

“Thank you. The shirt and pants will be done in two hours’ time.” Sherlock nodded and turned to Mycroft’s assistant, whom was sitting on a bench, tapping her phone. 

“I suppose we’re done here.” She nodded and slid her phone into her pocket as Sherlock pulled his jacket around himself. The middle button wouldn’t go and he gave a small sigh- thankful Mycroft was giving him some money to throw into a pile of clothes he probably wouldn’t wear after this child.

Settling into the town car, Sherlock gave a small pause.

It hit him, just again and again, but it never seemed to sink in. A child. He was going to have a child. A baby boy.

Sherlock looked at the woman sitting next to him and coughed to get her attention. She turned to him, expressionless eyes as she focused her attention on him.

“Something wrong?”

“Where are we going now?”

“I would assume home to get you ready for dinner.”

“Can we, can we go to a shop? A children’s shop?” she raised any eyebrow at him and he felt his cheeks grow hot.

“I apologize. I haven’t…I haven’t bought my son anything yet. And it hasn’t fully hit me that I’m…” His words wandered off his tongue and Anthea made a small gesture, as if she   
suddenly understood.

“Of course. Let me inform Mycroft and his little tag of security that follows after so they don’t think something is wrong.” She tapped on her phone for a moment and Sherlock settled back into the seat, getting warm as the car made a few turns and headed into a different direction.

It didn’t take them long to find a children’s store in the uptown part of London. Sherlock smiled as he and Anthea climbed out of the car and ventured inside. The whole store was decked in elegant, but modest items to purchase for a child. It was for an upper middle class community and Sherlock grumbled, but smiled as he took in many of the baby creepers and toys.

He wandered slowly, feeling out of place amongst the couples who held their pregnant others close by. An alpha female gripped her Omega’s arm, holding the smaller female brunette as Sherlock passed by, and he felt almost as if everyone was deterring from his presence.

After a few couples moved away from him, he realized it was odd that he would shop alone as it was and turned back to Anthea.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I can be here.” His voice wavered with emotion and Sherlock felt a cloud of depression settle over him as the Beta grasped his arm and gave a small sigh.

“Bloody Alpha’s.” She mumbled. Sherlock felt her slide her hand into his and gave him a big fake grin.

“Come on, love. I think I see some adorable creepers in the back for newborns!” She began slowly, but strongly leading him to the back and Sherlock watched as the couples relaxed and began to ignore him as Anthea pretended to shop.

“Are you pretending to-“

“Be your other? Yes. Beta’s can get pregnant by alphas or get Omegas pregnant. Maybe not easily, and it’s normally only in heterosexual couples, but these people would rather see this than a lone Omega. It’s…unsettling I suppose.” 

Sherlock nodded and he turned to shift among a few piles of soft creepers for newborns.

He stopped when he saw a black and yellow striped bumblebee one and slowly picked it up. The material was soft, even a little stretchy for the pups comfort. Sherlock smiled and for a moment. He drifted back to the days as a teenager when he had started a beehive in his gardens at the estate. His parents had watched their gardens bloom and Sherlock collected information for himself, and honey to sell, as he came up with new ideas for a safer hive for his bees. A bee collector had sounded like something of interest to him in terms of a career, something he hadn’t wanted to admit wouldn’t happen because of his parent’s excitable want to sell their son off into marriage for a much more grand company.

But, now he was pregnant, and reliant on his elder brother to help take care of him. There was no such thing as that dream anymore because he had decided to dive into 

Sherlock clutched it gently and noticed his hands were shaking. He inhaled softly as Anthea rubbed his back. 

“Mycroft said you could make a registry here, if you would like.” He blinked and watched as the lovely Beta left to grab the attention of a store employee and returned with a scanner for Sherlock to make a registry list of items for his son. He looked at the creeper in one hand and the scanner in the other.

“Mycroft is fine with this? But this store is entirely too much for me to afford. I don’t necessarily have any income-“a hand was held up and he stopped, biting his tongue from continuing as Anthea sighed.

“You know as well as I that Mycroft cares…in his own way. He knows when to be giving and when to make people work for what they need. He is your brother and bed mate for the time being.” Sherlock glanced around at the other shoppers to make sure no one else heard.

“My point is, Sherlock, Mycroft cares. He wants you for a reason, and he’s willing to show you he can deal with whatever you put on him. I think, anyway.” Sherlock nodded slowly and cleaned his throat as his son pushed down on the hand he held his belly with.

“I suppose you’re right. Mycroft doesn’t take on something he knows he wouldn’t invest the time in.”

Sherlock turned and picked up a second creeper before scanning it and setting it back down. He smiled to himself and held the bumblebee one as he continued through the store.

Rompers and creepers, bottles and a bassinet, a crib and a changing table. There were many more things on the list that Sherlock had scanned and he felt a little humiliated at himself for going on a spree. 

They walked up to the register and Sherlock set the bumblebee creeper onto the counter. It was the only thing he had picked up and not scanned.

The nicely dressed woman behind the marble counter top gave him a look.

“Just this item, sir?” 

“For now, yes.” Sherlock nodded as he set the scanner next to it. The creeper was rung up and Sherlock watched Anthea reach for her purse, to pay for it with Mycroft’s money presumably. He waved her off as he opened his own wallet, consisting of the only money he owned.

The creeper and receipt were wrapped and placed in a small, thick plastic bag with thin twine handles and handed to him. Sherlock gave a small smile, even as the look of disdain crossed the cashiers face for a split second.

Sherlock gripped the bag tightly, knowing people didn’t go in to a store like that and leave with one item, nor did they go in by themselves or so improperly dressed.

Anthea and Sherlock climbed back into the town car as Sherlock tried to ignore the feelings of belittlement he had felt inside the store.

“I could’ve bought that, Sherlock.” Anthea said quietly as the car pulled away from the curb.

He thought for a moment before shaking his head, his curls bobbing back and forth as he placed a hand over the side of his belly, where his son pushed and stretched against.

“No. I needed to buy something for my son, on my own.”

The car ride was silent, but Sherlock could feel Anthea smiling at him halfway home.

XXX

Sherlock’s clothes had been finished and delivered by the time they got home, and he found himself weary from shopping for baby items. The creeper was placed onto the end of   
his bed, made up presumably by the maids that came in once a day to clean, and Sherlock sat down in his armchair to put on the clothes. He was tired and his back was aching from the constant strain of carrying around a growing pup.

Sherlock knew he was tired from his body straining to gain weight to keep up with his pregnancy, also. Having no true Alpha to pamper and feed him meant Sherlock would not be able to be on bedrest until everything was finished in the last month before his son came.

Sherlock was happy enough to have clothes that fit now though. He turned to the boxes that had been delivered and were sitting in his room, stacked neatly, ready for him to open and wear any of them. He opened a few to see shirts in different colors, pants, socks, a robe and more. A traditional pup bearing gown was also made in case he wanted to wear it the night his son came into the world.

Sherlock pulled a pair of elegant dress pants on, and a button-up that curved perfectly over his belly went with it. He watched his son stretch and push, raising the buttons and lowering them as he moved and Sherlock rubbed his bump.

“Not much longer now, my sweet.” He said softly. He smiled and blinked, realizing his vision was becoming blurry with tears as they dropped onto his shirt.

He wiped his face and grinned softly as he picked up an open sweater, knowing he couldn’t wear a traditional suit jacket, but a pregnancy sweater would do. No one would misjudge a pregnant Omega for wearing what they deemed comfortable.

The shoes were a bit tougher to choose to match but he eventually found a comfortable pair of socks and slid his footwear on.

A hand ruffled through his hair gave him a finished look and he double checked in the mirror to make sure no faux pas would be made as he left the room.

Halfway down the hall, he groaned and stopped, pressing his hand to the fine wood and clutching his back. Something felt weird inside of his belly but it wasn’t painful.

It stopped after a minute, and he ventured outside to the car, hurrying so he wouldn’t be late. His son sometimes gave him cramps or hurt by pressing up against his ribs, but Sherlock hadn’t felt that before. It was new and for a moment, Sherlock worried. He had done his fair share of reading up on pregnancies for the time he had spent along in his nest at Jim’s and nowhere in his little bookcase inside his mind palace could he find something scientific to do with what had just happened.

Sherlock looked down and gave a groan at finding that there was an open space between some buttons on his shirt that hadn’t been there before.

He closed his shirt and gave a sigh.

XXX

The restaurant they were supposed to meet at was elegant and quaint, and Sherlock found himself feeling socially awkward as he sat, waiting for his brother to show up. The tables were far enough apart he couldn’t hear anyone else, and the lighting was a soothing one. The tablecloth was soft and there were dividers and curtains separating everyone from each other along the walls.

But Sherlock still felt anxious as he sat by himself. He began to sip his water, feeling hot and tired as his son seemed to feel awfully keen on stretching and pushing inside of his mother at the moment. 

Sherlock fiddled with the buttons on his shirt as it grew hotter and he noticed one of them had been stretched and was about to fall off. He deeply frowned at it, but jumped and looked up at the chair across from him slid out smoothly and Mycroft sat.

“I apologize for my tardiness to our dinner, Sherlock. Something unexpected came up.” He smiled at his brother and Sherlock nodded as Mycroft picked up the menu on the table.

“Unexpected? How so, Mycroft?” But the elder Alpha waved his hand at Sherlock.

“Nothing to worry yourself over.” Sherlock didn’t know how, but he could tell Mycroft was lying. It was…all over him. His posture was uncomfortable and he wouldn’t meet Sherlock’s eyes. Sherlock looked at him for a while longer before understanding Mycroft wouldn’t tell him. It just wasn’t something he was willing to tell him.

Sherlock looked away from his quiet brother and gently picked up a menu, sitting it in front of himself as he looked through it.

Everything sounded delicious and Sherlock’s son agreed as he stretched and pushed against the sides of his belly. It was straining and Sherlock felt as if his clothes were growing tighter.

“Ready to order, Sherlock?” He looked up at Mycroft and wondered if it was a good idea to eat. Something wasn’t exactly right with his pup, but the smell of other diner’s foods made his stomach growl. He nodded and picked up his menu, opening the elegant, embroidered paper as he began to look for his dinner.

(Just so my readers don’t get confused- this is a segment from here on out that includes Sherlock’s inner thoughts and a memory. This is not the present time in the story.)

Sherlock’s interactions with his brother had always been so…limited. Mycroft was older by nearly a decade, an Alpha in his family. He had been the only planned child to be an heir to the Holmes’s fortune and estate, although now Mycroft was more delved into political matters than the Holmes’ company, he still gave his part in running things. His upbringing and education had been more developed and prolonged than Sherlock’s.

Sherlock was an unplanned surprise, even more so when the doctors told the mother he would be an Omega from birth, and would develop later in his teens. His education had been common for his family, starting off in enrolled into a private school, moving up through the classes quickly, although he despised it. He was quickly switched once he developed, so he was placed into an Omega only school, full of petite, pretty young things that were taught to have a simple education and how to find an Alpha to please.

Sherlock knew of his planned wedding to the family friend, and even tried so hard to scare the man, whose name he didn’t even bother to remember, to lure him away as he came to dinner nearly every week and sat across from the pubescent Sherlock, watching him with eyes that made the skinny Omega squirm.

He remembered studying the bees, selling them and making his own money, and one day in the summer after his 13th birthday, he found Mycroft looming over him as he sat   
cross-legged in the garden, the summer breeze blowing softly. Sherlock had his bee keeper’s hat on, the net around his face keeping him safe and thick gloves on his fingers. He had been jotting in his journal when Mycroft was suddenly next to him, his ginger hair (fuller and thicker at that time) blowing softly across his forehead. He had dressed down for his visit home, but still was dressed nicely. His button up shirt was crisp and clean but the sleeves were folded up to his elbows. He watched Sherlock for a while before making his presence known and stepped forward, looking down at the younger brother he barely saw or spoke to.

“Alphas don’t like an Omega that can outwit them, you know.” Sherlock looked up at him, then back down to his notes as his thick curls fell in his face under his hat.

“I don’t care for a silly planned marriage. Or a relationship at all.” Mycroft was quiet, and then proceeded to sit down slowly next to his brother on the grass. They were both quiet, studying the beehive Sherlock had made for his bees.

“Most Omegas wouldn’t say something like that.” Sherlock was quiet then shook his head.

“People think Omega’s don’t have a say so in their sexualities, like Beta’s do. I’m not eager to get married because I am not attracted to the idea of marriage, or a relationship. I hardly like people as it is.” It was quiet for a moment then Mycroft turned to Sherlock and slowly took his wide-brimmed hat off.

“Do you suppose this way of thinking is because of your strict upbringing? Or perhaps you are asexual because you haven’t had the chance to actually experience the joy of being coddled by an Alpha?”

“Mycroft-“Sherlock began to protest, but Mycroft continued, a small gleam in his eye. Sherlock frowned at that.

“Perhaps you don’t like people because you were bullied?” Mycroft poked at Sherlock’s small cut on his face right next to his eye, only noticing it once the breeze pushed his hair back. Sherlock shoved his hand away.

“Why do you even bother wanting to know? I never see you and when you’re home you never speak to me. You act like we’re not siblings, Myc.”

His brother cleared his throat.

“My name is Mycroft, not Myc, and I see you’ve been hanging around Mother more often. I care about you…in my own way, I suppose, Sherlock.” Sherlock sighed and they stayed quiet once more. A bee floated by and landed on Sherlock’s arm. He stayed still so as not to disturb it and it buzzed off soon after. 

“Mother really loves her pills, doesn’t she?” Mycroft gave a small “mmhmp.” And Sherlock turned back to his hive.

All was quiet. The warm sun moved across the sky and Sherlock began to draw anatomy of his bees as they flew by. 

“There’s nothing wrong with your thoughts, Sherlock.” Mycroft spoke up. Sherlock’s head bobbed back up and he looked at his older brother.

“What do you-“

“Your sexuality. Just because you’re an Omega, doesn’t mean you want to get married, or have kids. It’s a stigmatized idea that you are not your own person. Don’t let anyone change who you are, Sherlock.” Mycroft leaned over and pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s cheek.

Sherlock sniffed as Mycroft stood up to leave.

“Mycroft.” 

He stopped and turned back.

“Yes?”

“What about you?”

Mycroft was quiet and his hands went into his pockets as he realized Sherlock was asking his opinion about his view of things for Alphas.

“I guess I’m just like you. Don’t care for an Omega; don’t care to boast my dominance on the world by inserting as many pups as I can, and I’m not necessarily comfortable amongst…people.’ He looked back as Sherlock tucked a curl behind his ear.

“But I put up with it, to get through life.”

“And what about the marriage? What do I do, Mycroft?” His voice was small and Sherlock couldn’t help it. He wasn’t so used to having any thoughts about something. Most things were dull and unimportant, but the marriage scared him. The way the man looked at him and had groped him in the hallway the night before, when his parents left them alone for a moment to “Get Sherlock used to only his presence” as he so put it. The fact his family was ready to give him away, for the estate.

Sherlock’s insides curdled.

A look crossed Mycroft’s face and Sherlock realized his body was stocky, stiff…almost angered, to see Sherlock so afraid of what his family was going to do.

“Alpha’s don’t like Omegas who say no.” He said quietly.

Mycroft turned and walked away and Sherlock trembled, watching his brother leave.

He turned back around and put his wide-brimmed hat back on, pressing it down hard on his skull as he felt his eyes burning with tears.

The conversation and small kiss was as close as he and Mycroft had ever been, physically and verbally.

Mycroft always seemed to leave before the conversation grew, but Sherlock remembered when Mycroft used to hold him as a child and carry him through the house while mummy laid in bed after having too much Valium or some other drug the doctors prescribed to her.

Mycroft cut his hair, bathed him a few times, telling the maids to go, that he could handle it. Sometimes he and Mycroft would lounger together. Sometimes they would walk through the garden. Mycroft would show him books in the library to read for the quiet Omega. Sherlock’s lack of conversation and verbal connection in the brothers was made up in physical connection, or learning.

Then Sherlock got older, and Mycroft went to school.

Then, when he came back, Sherlock was engaged and had begun developing.

Sherlock hadn’t been so intimate with Mycroft in so long, it felt awkward to even bother to ask him the things he had.

The last thing Mycroft said to him that was retained due to importance was when he bent to kiss Sherlock’s cheek goodbye as he left for town once more. His lips brushed against Sherlock’s cut on his cheek and Sherlock blushed heavily, realizing Mycroft was doing something so faux pas in front of his fiancé and his family members, as they stood behind   
him to wish him well in his schooling and political involving. 

Then Mycroft leaned close to his ear and whispered.

“You have the right to say no.”

Sherlock’s heart thumped hard and he watched as Mycroft climbed into the car waiting to take him to the station for quick travel back to London. 

He could see his fiancé glaring at Mycroft out of the corner of his eye, and wondered, for a moment, if the kiss was intentional.

His cheeks burned.

Sherlock was pulled from his thoughts, wandering about in his mind palace as he mindlessly chewed his smothered filet mignon. Mycroft was looking at him, his fork midair as he studied Sherlock’s face.

“You were in your mind palace.”

Sherlock swallowed and blinked at Mycroft, studying him. He was partially worried, but partially hoping that Sherlock hadn’t gone off into his head for a terrible reason.

“Are you enjoying my company?’ Sherlock cut his meal and took another bite.

“Indeed. I had…a memory. From a few years ago. It resurfaced because of your presence.”

“Was it a good memory?” Mycroft questioned. Sherlock’s face was neutral but he felt surprised to see Mycroft worry about something like that.

“Yes. I think it was…the last conversation we ever really had. After that…it was just small talk. You scolding me. Things I never bothered to remember.”  
Mycroft gave a sigh and leaned back, chuckling as he crossed his legs and rested his arm on the rest of the chair. 

“Yes, when we sat outside with the bees. I remember.” Sherlock watched Mycroft’s face as he remembered that day himself. He seemed to disassociate for a moment, then glanced into Sherlock’s eyes. 

“You were a lovely teenager. But I remember how mummy used to complain to me about you being bullied. I hated seeing that cut on your face that day.” Mycroft’s grin disappeared and his lips twisted gently to a small frown. His eyebrows were furrowed. 

“You were always coming home with bruises and cuts. I remember before you…before you switched schools, I once had to come pick you up. The kids had thrown rocks at you after class ended.” 

Sherlock recalled the memory, but shut it away quickly. He placed his utensils down and put his hands on his belly. He pressed down as his son pressed up and Mycroft’s nose crinkled.

“I despised any child that touched you so harmfully.” Sherlock felt himself give a dry laugh.

“I egged them on, I suppose. Flaunting my knowledge.” Mycroft’s hand quickly grabbed Sherlock’s from across the small table and Sherlock startled. His face flushed with red.  
Mycroft grimaced.

“I don’t like you saying such things. People are afraid of others with more knowledge, or insight. It scares them to know there small-minded. It’s them being prideful.” 

Sherlock inhaled softly, as his body felt oddly stretched and pushed by his strangely-active son.

“Mycroft. I never thought about it until now. But, did you-“

“Encourage you to say no to the marriage?” Sherlock closed his mouth softly.

“I know you observe and can deduce just as easily as I do…probably even better than myself, Sherlock. I told you what to do about that marriage in a way that you would think was your own idea.” Mycroft admitted. Sherlock felt his hand being gripped tighter by Mycroft. He gripped his brother’s hand back.

“Why? I think about it over and over. But, I can’t find a reason…I can’t see what you were thinking about back then, like I can do now.” He looked up at Mycroft and felt his face change, only slightly, out of awe. His brother, his face always so hard and closed up to the form of extreme expression, was showing so much love and admiration.

For once, Mycroft was open with his emotions.

“My feelings for you…were always a bit more than sibling love one might feel for a younger brother. I think I’ve always loved you, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock’s face was hot, it matched the sweating heat his body felt and he gave a small groan as his son pressed up against his ribs. His shirt was tight and hot at this point and he felt sweat running down his back.

“Mycroft, it-it’s just something people c-can’t accept.” Sherlock felt like he was in pain and Mycroft let go.

“Are you alright?” A button popped off of Sherlock’s shirt and the two watched as it rolled away on the floor. 

A waiter that was walking next to them noticed it and stopped, leaning down to ask Mycroft if they needed assistance but he waved him off.

“I’m fine, M-Mycroft.” Sherlock’s son was rapidly kicking and squirming now and the shirt broke open.”

“Sherlock, we need to leave.” Sherlock knew his face was probably pale and scrunched up in pain, and for once he felt uncomfortable at stopping the conversation he and Mycroft   
were having as he nodded. A burning pain was happening in his uterus and the shirt was ripped by now. Sherlock gripped Mycroft’s hand as the Alpha offered it. He put a hand on Sherlock’s back and led them towards the door, stopping for a moment to pay the restaurant.

Once outside, the cool air gave Sherlock’s pale, sweating skin a relief as Mycroft attempted to drape a coat over his ripped clothes shield him from onlookers as they waited for the town car. Sherlock pushed it away but clutched Mycroft’s hands.

“Mycroft, my body is o-on fire. I’m s-so sorry.” Mycroft frowned and clutched Sherlock close.

“No need to apologize.”

“But you and I…I know you’re not as open to emotional moments. This was…a night we both needed.” Sherlock panted in pain now and Mycroft’s face, stiff once more, but eyes   
full of admiration for the hurting Omega standing shorter than him.

“We did. Both now, my sweet, you need the doctor.” The car pulled up and the two climbed in, Sherlock a bit slowly as his son pressed against his organs. He felt heavy and slow as he adjusted in his seat and the town car pulled away from the curb, taking them as fast as the law would allow to the hospital.

XXXX

“Growing? What the bloody hell are you talking about?” Sherlock grunted as the doctor pressed the wand over his stomach to show him his five and a half month pregnancy had swelled to an eight month size and growth. 

Sherlock felt hot pain and watched as his son pushed on his walls in Sherlock’s uterus.

“How did he manage to grow so fast?” Sherlock groaned, putting his hands above his head and attempting to breathe heavily Mycroft put his hands flat down and rested on them next to Sherlock, hanging his head as the doctor sighed and snapped pictures of the baby, entering information into the monitor, giving Sherlock a moment to look at his son. He could see features in the black and white photos that were grainy, features and small details about his babies. Tears sprung into his eyes and he hurriedly wiped them away, nothing but pregnancy hormones to blame.

The doctor turned in her chair and shook her head as she printed off the pictures and gave Sherlock a towel to wipe his belly with.

“Well, it’s not something you hear about being an issue, but sometimes Alphas are a little impatient on letting their pups grow inside the womb. So they encourage the Omega through the bond to essentially swell, or speed up their pregnancy. It’s not too common, but happens enough that it’s not seen as something that’s very wrong. Normally, Omega’s don’t have a problem with this, aside from the few Omegas who might be influenced by their Alphas to progress too fast and have complications with the baby.”

Mycroft looked up and sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

“How much longer does Sherlock have until he’ll be ready for to deliver?” Sherlock and Mycroft both looked at the doctor as she sat, not exactly knowing how to answer the question. Anxiety welled in Sherlock’s chest and he attempted to sit up with his now very full, very body consuming pregnancy bump (which he is wondering how he didn’t notice before.) Mycroft put his hand on Sherlock’s back and grabbed his arm as he helped the Omega sit up.

“How much longer do I have until my baby is ready to be delivered?” the doctor sighed and clutched her clipboard to her chest.

“I’m sorry. I can give you an estimate of about three weeks.” Sherlock swallowed heavily and stood carefully, so much weight now on his body. He immediately ached and clutched his back. 

“He needs to stay on bed rest until the baby comes. His body was already struggling to keep up with this pregnancy.” The two nodded as they collected their items. Mycroft got the okay from the doctor to leave and they were escorted out with Sherlock in a wheelchair. Sherlock’s pain resided by the time they reached home but the constant struggle with the new, unexpected weight of his son’s growth wasn’t pleasing to work with. 

Mycroft slowly escorted him to the bedroom to lie down; a few maids peeking around the corners as the two wandered back inside, expecting them to not be home for a while. 

Sherlock blushed as a maid motioned to her stomach to the other maids, obviously pointing out Sherlock’s enormous belly and ripped shirt. He ducked his head as he blushed but Mycroft gripped his arm to comfort him.

Sherlock could feel tears running down his face as he lay in the bed, turning to his side to get comfortable, though it didn’t feel much better. Mycroft pulled a chair close to hold   
Sherlock’s hand as he watched his younger brother cry silently into the pillow.

“I don’t even have a crib, Mycroft.” He said hoarsely, his throat aching. Mycroft nodded understandingly, knowing he would have to go ahead and order furniture and items for the baby so a nursery could be made.

“I don’t have clothes. Diapers.” Sherlock shut his eyes, feeling so unprepared. It was what he needed, he supposed. He was finally aware and understand that he was having a baby- a child. A pup. Whatever you wanted to call it. Either way, Sherlock was having it dawn on him he had made a life.

He curled up as much as he could and let out a sob into Mycroft’s hand.

“I don’t even have a name, Myc!” Mycroft held his tongue against the shortened version of his name and instead, decided to hold his brother around his chest, gripping him tightly. 

He began to coo and shush for Sherlock to sleep.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Sherlock. We’ll find a name in the morning, yes?” Sherlock nodded as the remainder of his tears wet his pillow and he drifted off to sleep. Mycroft sat there for a few minutes, making sure his brother didn’t wake up. 

His younger Omega brother had been through many tiring events today, and his body was probably just as stress out as he was. He watched his stomach move as the baby stretched and flexed inside, bigger now than before. He frowned and curled a hand into a fist as he sat still for a moment and thought.

He stood and stroked Sherlock’s head full of curls before giving him a simple kiss on the cheek.

He ran a finger gently over the small scar right next to Sherlock’s eye before standing up and leaving the room without a sound. He ventured to his study down the hall, but stopped to speak to the maid that passed.

“Inform the other ladies that if they speak about my brother again in such ways, I will have them removed from their positions.” He didn’t even bother to see which maid he spoke to, but she nodded and hurried off in a courtly manner to inform the other girls to shush about their gossip. Mycroft adjusted his cufflinks, taking them off as he opened and shut himself inside of his study. Anthea was inside already, sitting at her computer with business matters, but glanced up as her boss entered.

“I didn’t think tonight would be a work night.” She said cooly.

Mycroft sighed.

“Sherlock’s bond is still open with whatever half-wit Alpha that decided to…to hurt him like this. His pregnancy has progressed nearly three months time. He’ll be ready to give birth in a week or so.” Anthea’s face paled slightly and she nodded calmly.

“I barely understand anything that you said about the pregnancy and bond, but I think I know enough to get that it’s not good.” Mycroft nodded and rubbed his tired face as he sat down in his desk next to Anthea’s.

“What now, Mycroft?”

“Order everything on Sherlock’s registry that he made today. And diapers, formula in case he can’t produce his own milk, bottles too. Everything a baby will need when the time comes. Hire some of the provided people to come and move all of my items in the room next to Sherlock’s into an extra room. He doesn’t need to move into a different bedroom right now, he needs to build his nest and get his birthing bed ready.” Anthea nodded in understanding.

“And the Alpha?” Mycroft stopped as he opened his laptop and turned to her.

“I’m going to try and find him.” Mycroft grunted quietly. The pair were quiet, and then Anthea grunted as she began clicking her laptop.

The night went without much trouble.

XXX

John had been pushing and stretching, reaching out into the bond for what felt like hours now. He just kept encouraging whatever he felt to stretch and grow-maybe hopefully pushing the wall the Omega had put up. Whatever it was, wall or emotion, it didn’t budge and eventually John tired himself out.

He had searched for days to find a lead on his Omega once he left the brothel, but it wasn’t coming up with anything. He didn’t know who to ask or where to get any leads after all of his resources had been used up.

John swirled his coffee around in his cup as he sat inside the small coffee shop, waiting for Mike to show. He hadn’t been there long, but watched many people walk in and out made it feel like he had been.

He swirled the brown liquid around and tapped his foot, then tried again.

John sighed and set his cup down, clasping his hands together and lowering his head as the chair across from him was pulled out and Mike sat in it. 

“So? What is it, John?”

John sighed and messed with his cup of coffee, since it was cold and no longer a tasteful drink.

“I…I’m giving up on finding my Omega. I should’ve listened to you.” The two were quiet and the coffee shop’s music played in between their awkward pause.

“At least you tried, John. You can’t say you didn’t fight to make things right, I guess.” Mike bit his lip.

“What now, though? Omegas and Alphas can’t really go without the other, and the bond isn’t an easy thing to remove. It’s permanent, in nearly every case. There’s only-“

“Only been two recorded cases of bonds being broken, yes I know, Mike.” John pulled his fingers through his hair and slouched on his arm.

“I think it’s possible for me to…to bond to someone else, Mike.” His friend frowned and John cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter.

“It’s…not heard of, but I never finished bonding with the Omega. I can…I can feel it. My Alpha can. The bond isn’t complete, so maybe it’s possible for me to bond to someone else completely, permanently. This Omega will just have to find another Alpha to stimulate them.”

“And what happens when that one leaves? Or the Alpha stops giving them the stimulated bond they needed? John, this Omega could die. And so could you.” Mike sighed, and John gripped his coffee cup.

“I don’t know. There’s something interrupting the halfway bond between me and the omega. I can’t even tell what it is at this point. But I can’t do it anymore, Mike. I need to find someone else; I need to make myself happy. Chasing this half-marked trail will only make me lost.” He sighed quietly. 

The two men sat quietly for a while, brooding in their own way about the situation. The understanding that John was giving up, essentially putting himself and the Omega in danger, was a heavy thing to have on the mind.

“I’ll just focus on my career at the hospital, a-and find a new omega. That’s what I’ll do, Mike. I’ll turn my life around for the better.” Mike looked up.

“And then what?” John sighed, grabbed the coffee cup and stood.

“And then…I don’t know.”

He briskly walked to the door and threw his cup away, before leaving the coffee shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking kill me.
> 
> I forgot to add a few things.


	12. Chapter 12

Mycroft held true to his word, and within three days of Sherlock’s unexpected swelling, everything on Sherlock’s registry list was ordered, packaged, delivered, unpackaged and set up in the bedroom next to Sherlock’s, connected via doorway. Mycroft brought in an interior designer to have everything set up and decorated, perfect for a nursery and a child from a person of higher standing.

Mycroft surveyed the room on his own time, straightening towels and clothes, ready for the newborn pup to come any moment. He sighed and gazed around, wondering how he had gone from his isolated life of no relations to having Sherlock as his bedmate with a pup, ready to be born around the corner.  
He turned to see a few maids peeping their heads into the new nursery, awing at the elegant furniture for the soon to be baby. He waved his hands towards them in a manner to shoo them away, and they scuttled off, realizing they had obviously offended their house owner by peering into Sherlock’s child’s personal dwelling. He picked up a small gift bag by the door on the child’s dresser and hooked it around his wrist as he left, shutting the door behind them. He turned to the remaining head maid, who had her hands crossed in front of her.

“I apologize for the ladies behavior, sir, I don’t-“

“They stay out of here, understand? My brother’s room also. These are personal dwellings that are private.” His stern voice stiffened her and she nodded before continuing off, leaving Mycroft to himself. He waited until the hall was empty and walked the few steps to Sherlock’s door, knocking softly. He waited until his ears heard a small, “come in” from his brother.

He opened the door and walked in, turning the dimmed lights on to a higher brightness as Sherlock put down the book he was reading and slowly sat up. The pale, very pregnant Omega was noticeably uncomfortable, his shirt pulled up to the top of his swollen uterus, obviously it being too small to wear comfortable. He wore elastic sleeping pants that stretched around his hips and a blanket was draped around his shoulders.

Mycroft felt himself grow hot in his suit, wondering if he should be aroused by Sherlock or feel infatuation. He walked to the side of Sherlock’s bed and kissed his head softly, stroking a hand through his brother’s soft curls.

“Hello, my sweet, how are you feeling?” Sherlock gave a soft moan as Mycroft’s hands ran up and down his swollen, aching body tenderly and softly, but made sure to keep his mind straight.

“My body hurts. This pregnancy is taking a toll on me, and my son seems desperate to get out.” At that, they both looked down to see Sherlock’s son push on the side of his stomach.

“But other than that, I’m fine.”

“Good, I have something to show you.” Sherlock blinked and took Mycroft’s hands as he helped him up, Sherlock’s legs being wobbly under the intense weight of his son. 

“Is it the nursery, Mycroft?” He chuckled and held his brother’s hands as they very slowly exited the room.

“I know you’re smart, Sherlock, but don’t ruin this.” He warned. Sherlock blushed and they very carefully shuffled to the nursery, Mycroft holding his brother’s arms the whole way.   
He opened the door with a small flourish and Sherlock gaped a little, his cheeks pink with delight as the two of them shuffled in.

“You-you got the crib I wanted-and the changing station-and-and” He touched the dresser and shuffled from each piece of furniture, even the rocking chair with soft pillowed coverings, to opening the wardrobe and looking at all the items that were hung and folded for his child. There were new diapers, bottles, blankets, everything that could’ve been needed at any given time for a child, and Sherlock felt tears coming to his eyes. He turned to Mycroft and they gripped each other in a tight embrace, Mycroft bringing his lips to Sherlock’s. They only kissed for a moment, but Sherlock’s Omega was calmed so much from the Alpha pheromones from Mycroft that it seemed as if they kissed for a hours.  
Sherlock stepped back and slowly sat down in the rocking chair, sighing as the padded chair cushioned his aching back.

Mycroft smiled.

“Thank you…so much, Mycroft. For everything you’ve done for me and my son.” 

Mycroft’s eyebrows rose as he remembered the gifts he had for his pregnant brother and quickly held the bag towards him.

“Oh, Sherlock, I nearly forgot…I bought these for you.” Sherlock took it and looked at him.

“Mycroft, I appreciate the gifts, but you’ve given me so much at this point, I feel ashamed at-“

“Open it, before I change my mind.” He said coyly. Sherlock blinked and moved the wrapping paper to pull out a phone, which he clicked the home button to see it be a brand new phone, and a name book for babies.

“Oh…Thank you, Mycroft.”

“I realized a few days ago that you didn’t have a phone. I figured it could be something of use to you.”

In actuality, he was worried on not being able to contact Sherlock within a matter of moments.

Sherlock chuckled and set both in his lap.

“Thank you, again. I apologize for not having a phone-“

“No need. I know…I know many places won’t sell to single Omegas for their bigot reasons, and I know you might need an idea for a name for you son.” The two were quiet and   
Sherlock glanced at Mycroft to realize his brother had actually gone out, into public and stores, purchased a cell phone and a bookstore for the baby book. Knowing his brother’s seclusion and preference to purchasing items online, this was something he really needed to be grateful for. He smiled and began laughing at himself, knowing it was rude, but couldn’t help it. He put a hand to his mouth and Mycroft frowned.

“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” Sherlock looked up at Mycroft with a chuckle.

“Don’t be daft, brother dear. It’s just…It seems I’ve already decided on a name for my son.” Sherlock said, hands cupping his sons swell.  
Mycroft’s eyebrows raised and Sherlock watched his body language relax, and stuck a hand in his pocket. He smiled at the floor, glancing down, a genuine smile that made Sherlock feel warm all over. These advanced emotions were nothing but rudimentary pregnancy hormones. 

Sherlock hoped they didn’t leave after he gave birth.

Mycroft cleared his throat and continued studying the soft, hand sewn carpet on the floor.

“What’s his name, Sherlock?”

“Benedict. I’ve decided to name him Benedict.” Mycroft looked up at Sherlock.

“What a lovely name. Very fitting for a pup in the Holmes line.” Sherlock nodded and studied his new phone, feeling awkward about wondering how to approach the topic of actually introducing his child to his father and mother in the future, not knowing how to present the fact he had given birth out of wedlock. Mycroft studied his brother, watching him disassociate for a moment before clearing his throat, making Sherlock glance up.

“Yes, Mycroft?” 

“Do you really think your son will not be accepted by our family?” Sherlock turned away, feeling embarrassed that Mycroft had so easily deduced his train of thought. He rested his head on his hand and gave a small sigh.

“Yes, I do, actually. I understand that our family has a higher social status, and although our parents accepted my gender with an open state of mind, I know they will not accept my son, especially after my actions.” Mycroft sighed and walked closer, sliding his hands around Sherlock’s belly and kissing the top of his head, burying his nose into his brother’s soft curls.

“I know they are not pleased with you running away from the marriage, btu they will have to understand that they do not own you. This is not a world in which Omegas are in need of being owned by someone else until they are married; you have the right to do as you please.” He stood and watched as a tear rolled down Sherlock’s cheek, but kept his face neutral as he wiped it away quickly.

“Thank you, Mycroft.” His voice broke at the end but Sherlock cleared his throat to cover it, and then lifted a hand towards his brother.

“As lovely as this nursery is, my dear brother, I think it suits my son more than me. Can you pleas escort me back to my room?” Mycroft smiled and took Sherlock’s hands, helping his very pregnant brother to his feet. The two waddled to Sherlock’s bedroom once more, helping his very pregnant brother into bed. The omega gripped his brother for a moment, holding onto him in a comforting manner. Mycroft sat next to him and cradled him, listening to Sherlock as he breathed heavily.

“What are we doing, Mycroft? Is this…is this even correct in any way?” Sherlock exhaled softly. Mycroft stroked his cheek and pulled him away, glancing deeply into his younger brother eyes. Sherlock was smart…so smart. But Sherlock was so much more emotional, full of feelings and…things unexplainable.

“As long as you are happy, my dear Sherlock, I doubt there should be an issue.” He felt his phone going off in his pocket and knew he had items to attend to, so he stroked Sherlock’s head and gave him hiss goodbyes, promising to return later when he was finished. He left, knowing he had probably spent too much time with his loving brother, but knew business could wait. His soon to be mate was more important.

Mycroft knew he could not take his brother right now- his body was delicate and could not handle the pressure of possibly bonding and a child right now, especially a child that wasn’t his.

Mycroft, with umbrella in hand, followed Anthea outside as they both climbed into the town car that awaited him. 

It wasn’t until they were both inside, and a gun was pushed into Anthea’s forehead did Mycroft realize that he should have been paying more attention to the car’s driver. In the front, he could see two men; the third one on the left slumped over, probably dead. Mycroft had the urge to suck his teeth in annoyance but knew it was a sign of irritation. 

He very slowly turned to Anthea as the men barked orders at them to drop their phones on the floor and sit still.

“Are you alright?” The Beta’s eyes were wide and she sat very still, the muzzle of a gun silencer pressed deep into the skin of her forehead.

“Security detail needs to be amped. This is highly unacceptable.” He knew it would get through to her that this was his way of staying calm and collected, but he could still see her shake slightly.

“T-that might be a job for your superiors, sir.” He grasped the handle of his umbrella in annoyance as the men pulled the car away from the curb and drove, pulling off into the London traffic. Mycroft knew that the men wouldn’t kill him- he already knew who they belonged to, but didn’t want to jeopardize the life of his assistant. She was wide eyed and swallowed heavily, and Mycroft hoped she was smarter than he assumed, because if she glanced at the handle of his umbrella, where he hid under a small covering identical to the wood, was panic button. A tracking device was installed inside of the handle of the umbrella, which he carried with him no matter what weather it was outside, so his security   
detail would know where he was always.

Despite having a van following the car, he knew the drivers would probably lose them eventually.

The car jolted to a stop and Anthea hissed as the gun’s silencer barrel pressed deeper into her forehead harshly. The door next to them opened, and Jim slid in quietly, a long Burberry pea coat shadowing his frame. He sat across from them as his right hand man joined. The retired sniper looked worse for wear, his face bruised and an eye swollen. 

It didn’t mean he looked any less menacing.

Not that Mycroft was intimidated. 

Jim sat across from him and they matched each other’s glare. Mycroft shifted, watching as the gun from his assistants head was pulled away and pulled back into the front, but still being aimed at her forehead over Jim’s shoulder. Mycroft could see her rubbing her forehead out of the corner of his eyes.

“You alright, Anthea?” She made a sound that seemed to be “mm-hm” so Mycroft assumed she would be alright, shaken, but stable.

“My, it seems to me as if you didn’t bother to hear me last time, Jim. I don’t like interruptions, and now you’ve gone and made me late to my meetings.” Jim gave him a coy look   
that he once thought only a serpent could manage.

“Seems you didn’t listen to me with our last little conversation.” 

“Sherlock’s child has nothing to do with you and never will, James.” Mycroft gave him a stern and cold look that meant he wasn’t letting up so Jim could force his way over Mycroft and take Sherlock back.

“You gave him to me, promised me that if I gave you every damn speck of bloody information you would back off. You’re pushing yourself, Holmes, and I doubt you will want to   
see where this ends.” Jim’s Alpha forced his body to swell, and Mycroft kept himself cool and collected, knowing if he showed anything that might be a sign of feeling intimidated, Jim’s ego would take it was fear. But his canines grew as his Alpha receded them from his gums.

“He was mine.” His voice was scraggly and full of menace, inhumane sounding. Anthea and Sebastian, as Betas who didn’t understand the concept of how Alphas or Omegas worked, shifted uncomfortably. Mycroft stayed still, his fingers lingering on the handle of his umbrella, and raised an eyebrow.

“You destroyed what I permitted you to have. I allowed you to have him as wife- Sherlock and I are nearly eleven years apart, and not related. From the moment he was born, he always felt something akin to distrust towards me.” Jim leaned forward and smiled, full of venom and malice.

“So you think now because Sherlock didn’t come from the same whore cunt or same sperm fucker as you, that you have the right to fuck him whenever you want?” Mycroft leaned forward also, a sign of disrespect towards the Alpha, even if Mycroft was the more purebred of the two. He smiled, his teeth clicking together and forcing Jim to sneer.

“You raped Sherlock. You destroyed him with drugs and the forceful act of carrying your child and he left on his own terms. I didn’t intervene until Sherlock’s life was in possible danger. He might not be related to me, but he is still my brother, and you are still just another criminal.” Jim was impossibly still. Everyone in the car stopped moving, as if they were afraid even the slightest motion would disrupt and make it chaos.

Jim leaned forward, and at this point, he had swelled so he was actually looking down at Mycroft. His pupils were literal slits, his Alpha enraged. Being a more purebred and better Alpha, Mycroft could keep his cool. 

But Moriarty had all but lost it.

“I will burn you. I will never provide you again with information again to help your little precious government superiors. London will be in flames, and it will, be, your, fault. And then, once everything is burnt to ashes, every little feeble minded cunt has been taken down, I will make sure to find you, and skin you, and just slowly let you bleed out while you watch me fuck your precious Sherlock into a wanton whore for me, I’ll make him my personal slave and breeder until his uterus can’t take it anymore and his tits sag full of milk.   
His son will be my personal mouth to fuck my cock and then tossed into the Thames and I’ll make sure to attach a toy floatie to his leg so everyone can watch his bloated dead body bob away.” 

Mycroft inhaled, knowing he should keep himself collected.

But James had struck home with threatening to use Benedict for fellatio and to kill the newborn, threatening to hurt Sherlock. Mycroft felt his own Alpha push his canines out and he eventually put his face in James’s, matching his height slowly as his own Alpha became enraged, although he was much calmer. 

“Come near Sherlock or Benedict and I’ll provide you with every pain you have ever caused him or his child, quadruple the stimulation. You will never see the light again once I have you in my grasps.”

“You already got me once, Holmes; you won’t get me back in that dense little concrete room again. I’ll make sure to burn every inch of you. I’ll rip you apart. I’ll find every person related to the Holmes estate and rip them piece by piece and feed them to dogs, and I’ll turn your little assistant here into my cum rag.” Mycroft didn’t realize he and Jim were both snarling like dogs at each other, until Anthea put a hand on his chest to bring him back and the gunner in the front seat cocked his pistol. 

“You need, to leave. Now.” Mycroft huffed, his own voice so deep and full of venom he didn’t recognize it as his own but as a beasts.

Jim was panting gently, and his Alpha only came down a little.

The mindless Alpha then moved fast. Mycroft’s head snapped to the side with blunt force and he felt pain and warm heat bloom along his cheekbone. Moran was struggling to pull   
the enraged Alpha from the car. Jim punched the window and it cracked severely, before scraped the car.

“Get involved, Holmes, and I swear you will pay.” He growled, before they climbed into another car and sped off. Mycroft clutched his face as he leaned on Anthea, being thrown into her lap with the force of Jim hitting him. Mycroft pulled his hand away to see crimson blood on his hand and he realized he must’ve been bleeding profusely from his cheek. He scrambled to grab his umbrella and hit the panic button several times, breathing heavily as he realized he felt a rush of adrenaline, panic and anxiety all in one hit. His chest felt heavy with emotion and he glanced up at Anthea, the petite Beta gripping him in fear and on the phone. He inhaled heavily and exhaled, calming himself as he sat up, being still to await the short arrival of his security detail. He could hear the van being pulled up behind the car and he looked at Anthea as she shook softly.

“It’s okay, dear. Cancel the meeting and let’s get back to the house. We need to speak to my superiors about security detail and watching James. I feel as if he wasn’t threatening to bomb London just to pique my curiosity.” 

“Or fear.” Anthea said quietly. Mycroft glanced at her and realized she was also bleeding, a small bloody hole in her shoulder from where the gunman with the silencer had shot her in the commotion. Mycroft tried to not take notice of the two bullet holes behind her ear, which was bleeding from being grazed, and to the right of her head, indicating the gunman had attempted to actually kill her, but jostled from Moriarty leaping forward angrily. Anthea shook and gripped her arm as the blood ran down, but otherwise stayed calm.  
Mycroft pressed his hand to his bleeding cheek harder to apply pressure as a car pulled up next to them, the van blocking them and escorting them into the safer town car. 

XXXX

Sherlock watched as his son pushed up, his stomach moving slightly underneath his book. He chuckled and tried to go back to reading, but there wasn’t much to concentrate on. 

The book wasn’t that interesting and Sherlock didn’t much care for it anyway.

Mycroft wasn’t someone who had TV’s in his house and although Sherlock sometimes liked to have one around to waste time, it wasn’t much enjoyment to him. Except for the shows where someone tried to fight their ex-lovers on air and the talk show host claimed they are not the child’s parent at the end.

It was particularly funny, and Sherlock liked figuring out as much as he could before they announced whether the person was right or wrong.

Sherlock suddenly felt a pain in his side and he grabbed the spot where his son had…somehow made himself hurt. He groaned in pain and choked up, feeling a rush of emotions flowing through him.

Except they weren’t his emotions. He gasped as he looked down, realizing how excited…how son felt. He chuckled and stroked his stomach where his son was pushing and felt more emotions flow through him. Excitement. Happiness.

Ready.

Sherlock swallowed heavily and sat up straight, his belly hanging between his legs and onto the bed. 

Emotions flowed through him from his son and Sherlock smiled, his cheeks aching as hard as he did. He laughed, and smiled, despite feeling a few sharp cramps in his side and   
back. He was hot and aching all over, but he didn’t let it stop him from feeling positive that his son had finally started sending emotions through their small bond. It was not an   
established bond, but it was there enough for him to know.

Sherlock groaned in pain when he felt another sharp cramp and pondered if standing up would do him any good. 

He started to raise himself up, but the phone on the bed next to him vibrated. 

Sherlock picked it up and saw it was a blocked number. Even though only Mycroft knew the phone was eve active, it probably was a sales person. Sherlock wanted to press declined but his curiosity got the best of him. Sitting in the house all day never did him any good.

“Yes, hello?” He spoke loudly, as he put the phone to his ear. It was quiet for a minute, unlike sales calls, and Sherlock frowned at the cellular device.

“Hel-“

“Hello, Sherly.” 

That voice.

Sherlock stopped, feeling dread building up as he assumed-no, realized who the voice belonged to. Sherlock gripped the phone, and his belly, knowing he couldn’t even sound   
intimidated.

“How did you get this number, James?” He spoke with a cold tone.

“You need to watch how you speak to me, little one. You obviously already see how easy it was for me to just get your new phone number.” Sherlock did not let this waver him and he sat up straighter, glancing around the room, wondering if maybe Jim had gotten cameras in his room or something. He was not one to put it past the Alpha being able to find a way to do something like that. He was tempted to get out of bed, but the sharp pains in his sides influenced him not to, and he didn’t want to make any sounds that informed Jim of anything whatsoever.

“You act as if you’re still superior to me. You do not own me, Jim. I am no longer under your miniscule fist that you think you rule London with.”

A sharp, cheap laugh was barked through the phone.

“Oh, Sherly. I’m just calling to see how you’re doing is all, I mean living in a manor with a maniacal bastard that lies to you all the time would be pretty concerning.” 

Sherlock felt something bob in his throat, and felt like swallowing his own tongue.

“Lies? My brother would never lie to me, especially after all he’s done to me, considering-“

“Considering what? I gave you everything you wanted, all I asked was you work for me for a bit, earn your place.”

“You ruined who I was and fed me drugs like they were candies. I will put every effort into making sure you stay away from my son and I.”

“Fine, fine, darling. But you might want to check your little bedmates before you let them spend the night from now on.”

The phone call ended and Sherlock swallowed heavily, not sure what to make of what Jim just told him.

His phone rang a few times to alert him that he had two messages, and he slowly opened them, not sure what to expect from Jim.

They were audio files. Two of them, labeled “mycroftisdirty.mp3” and “mycroftLIEs.mp3” were loaded.

He swallowed heavily and selected the first one, opening it. Mycrofts voice played through his phone, only for a few seconds, hoarsely from what sounded like he had been growling.

“…possible danger. He might not be related to me, but he is still my brother, and…”

His voice faded in and out and Sherlock blinked, not knowing if it was true or not. Knowing Jim and how he adored funny mind games, Sherlock knew it couldn’t be…true, could it?  
He closed it and breathed heavily, feeling his son stretch inside of him. His son could feel his distress, or was it that he was just that uncomfortable? His body was aching all over.

He opened the next one.

“..to have. I allowed you to have him as wife- Sherlock and I are nearly eleven years apart, and not related. From the moment he was born, he always felt something akin to distrust towards me…”

Sherlock felt…hollow for a moment, before a message alerted and he blinked in shock.

"i wouldn’t trust a fat load of lard either. JM"

Sherlock shoved his phone into his pocket, not wanting to see it anymore, as he realized he was heaving softly, in pain now. He grabbed his sons swell and stood, not feeling much better,. His whole body ached and he had to grab the end of his bed to steady himself. His knees were weak, sweating heavily. He took a few minutes to steady himself and the pain almost receded when it came back in a sharp pain.

He grunted and held his belly as he tried to leave the room, waddling slowly. He opened his door, needing to find someone to help him, he felt himself aching a-and-

Sherlock heaved and began to cry, realizing he was in so much pain and his son’s pregnancy was too much for his body, and on top of that, he was having anxiety.

Anxiety. He was having an anxiety attack.

He tried to not let Jim get in his head but he couldn’t help it. As intimate as Mycroft had been, so long ago on that summer day, where he stroked Sherlock’s hair and kissed his cheek… Sherlock could remember the smell of Alpha musk on him and suddenly realized Mycroft was sending out pheromones that day.

Why he was so fine with Sherlock as a possible mate, it made sense, and Sherlock gripped his knees in pain because he didn’t want to admit Jim was right, he just wanted to know   
this was just another mind game.

He heard the door open and a few maids cried out, a bunch of bustling and Sherlock waddled to the stairs, gripping his sons swell. He watched three maids bustle about, collecting items, hurrying as a Mycroft and Anthea were bustled in. He could see blood on them and tried to hurry further down the stairs, waddling while trying to grip the railing.  
By the time he reached the bottom, he could see they all had moved to another room, three maids continuing bustling in and out as a few people stood in the room. Sherlock moved past them and realized he was watching as Anthea was being bandaged on her shoulder, partially naked, and a few rags of blood around her.  
Mycroft’s cheek had a thick bandage on it, but he didn’t seem to care as he watched his assistant grimace in pain. Sherlock stepped closer, confused as to what had happened, nearly forgetting his intent towards Mycroft to inquisition him on what Jim had told him.

He crept closer to Mycroft, who noticed him and frowned at seeing his brother holding his belly as if he were lugging it, wincing in pain. Mycroft, in the process of taking off his coat, threw it off and hurried forward towards Sherlock.

“What’s going on? Is Benedict alright?” Shockingly to Mycroft, Sherlock stepped back quickly. 

“What happened?”

“Sherlock-“

“What happened, Mycroft? Tell me.” Mycroft sighed and turned away somberly.

“We…were shot at.” Sherlock inhaled softly.

“Was it Jim?”

Mycroft grew still and Anthea stopped grimacing to look at him.

“How did you-“

“I’m not daft, Mycroft. I know…I know he did criminal activites, pretty deeply involved.” Mycroft turned away, then glanced back.

“Did he speak to you, Sherlock? Was he here?” He stepped closer and Sherlock hugs his sons swell with a pained exhale.

“Tell me, Sherlock!”

“He called me! Why was he with you, Mycroft? Why did he attack you? Tell me everything.” Sweat was running down his forehead and he was extremely agitated. He was trying to   
keep calm but he felt enraged, angry, and his body was in so much pain. Mycroft gave an exasperated sigh and glanced at the maids, waving them out.

“Leave us, all of you. Anthea, youll be escorted out, make sure you take care of that wound.” The man that had been tending ot Anthea helped her up and they left slowly, hoping to find a new room to tend to her wounds. Mycroft turned back to Sherlock and rubbed his chin.

“How…Sherlock, just listen to me. Moriarty is dangerous, anything he told you-“ Sherlock fumbled for his phone and opened it to replay the messages, and Mycroft’s face blanched.

“What does that mean? You gave me to him? What the bloody hell does that mean!” Sherlock threw his phone away from him, miraculously it didn’t break. Mycrofts eyebrows furrowed and he swallowed as Sherlock groaned and held his hip now.

“Damn it, Benedict, this hurts…” Mycroft reach out but Sherlock held up a hand.

“Don’t touch me. Explain to me…what…happened.” He winced and Mycroft opened his mouth and closed it a few times.

“W-We…I…”

“How are we not related, Mycroft? How!” he screamed. Mycroft tried to keep his stance, but shifted from leg to leg.

“….Sherlock, please. I’ll tell you everything, just give me a moment.” Sherlock was heaving, but couldn’t tell if it was from pain or anger. His son seemed to be sititng very low now and he groaned. Mycroft looked away, feeling sick, not knowing how to explain this. The anger in his brother’s eyes was hurtful, wanting to comfort him, but he couldn’t. He tried to piece together what Sherlock needed to hear, otherwise he wouldn’t be satisfied.

“I…We’re not related, Sherlock. Raised as brothers, yes, but…not. My mother….died, during my childbirth. Our father was devastated, but married to your mother a few years later. She slept with someone else,though. You are not our fathers child.” Sherlock stopped and looked down at his feet, not sure how to feel .He felt…hollow for a moment, numb. He opened his mouth and shut it again.

“I…Mycroft…I…Does father know?” Mycroft turned away.

“I honestly do not know. I just know that you and I are not related by blood. “Sherlock turned away, unsure as how to feel about this situation. He gaped and swallowed heavily.

“Mycroft, is that why…you were fine with...w-with being together? As lovers?” Mycroft was quiet and didn’t look his brother in the eye, before slowly nodding.

“You were going to be perfectly fine with yourself, not telling me anything about my own…I don’t understand how you could’ve been perfectly fine with that.”  
Mycroft was quiet and Sherlock swallowed heavily. The air was tense between them.

“What did you mean by allowing him to have me? Tell me.” Mycroft shifted from foot to foot and Sherlcok stepped forward painfully, and gripped his arm angrily.

“Tell. Me.” Mycroft turned to Sherlock, who was startled to see his brother with a tear running down his cheek.

“Sherlock, I-I’m so sorry.” He put a hand to his mouth and covered it, and Sherlock realized he had done the impossible. He had broken Mycroft down to the core.

“What did you do, Mycroft?’ He said quietly. Mycroft did something, Sherlock thought he never would. He fell to his knees and grabbed Sherlock’s legs, holding them as he buried his face in them.

“Sherlock, Jim is involved in so many criinal outlets and underground passings…drugs, illegal tradings guns, everything. My superiors captured him, brought him in to me. I questioned him for months, kept him in one room. We tortured him, we put him through things that no human could ever devise on their own. He wouldn’t give us anything. He picqued an interest in myself, but not necessarily was I interesting enough I suppose. But, by god…I told him about you. When he heard…He came with a trade. I told him about you…He told me about ongoings I could take down, and control in London and surrounding countries England is stationed in. For weeks, we went back and forth.” Mycrofts voice was small and Sherlock clutched his face, feeling sick.

“Why did you do it?” 

“I had no choice. I don’t know why I did it, I was desperate, I wasn’t coming up with answers, and my superiors and I could not progress with anything. There wasn’t anything we could stop without the information Moriarty could’ve provided us.” Sherlock pushed his brother off of him.

“I told him if he promised to continue to supply me with information, he could have you, as much as it killed me. I told him I would find a way for you to find him, and I made sure of it. You didn’t go there because you found it on your own- people told you. Jim started finding people to supply you the drugs I already knew you dabbled in, and we knew you would follow the trail. “ Mycroft was slumped on his knees and Sherlock turned away, facing from his brother as he felt himself become enraged. He-he had never felt so betrayed, and hurt. Sherlock thought his brother had thought better than that and he leaned over, heaving in pain as his knees shook from a cramp that overwhelmed his body.  
“Mycroft, how could you do something like this to me?” he sobbed. Tears and sweat ran down his face and he felt Mycroft inhale deeply.

“I’m so sorry, Sherlock. Damn it, brother, I wanted to make it up to you, show you I can actually take care of you.”

Sherlock whirled around and slapped his brother before whimpering in pain. 

“N-no, Mycroft. You just wanted to lay to rest your guilty bloody conscience.” 

“Sherlock, please sit down, I-I cant stand watching you be in pain anymore. We can discuss this later, just tell me how to make you better.” Mycroft gripped sherlocks knee but he   
weakly slapped him away with a soft sob.

“N-no. I-I am going to go c-call father and mummy and move home for a while. I don’t think London is where my son and I need to be.” Sherlock turned once more, and Mycroft gripped his robe.

“Sherlock, god please, brother, I’m quite literally on my knees. I’m begging, stay here. I can take care of you here. Please, Sherlock. I-I think my feelings have delved into romance. I think I love you.”

Sherlock gritted his teeth as he felt something painful, and then a little twinge of sharp pain. He couldn’t move as liquid ran down his legs and collected in a puddle on the floor. 

“N-no you don’t, Mycroft.” He turned to see his brother looking at the puddle at his feet, then back to the Omega.

“Sherlock, I told you to s-“

“Shut up, and help me up the stairs, you bloody daft fool. We can discuss this later. My water just broke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this make sense? No, no it doesn't, i guess. 
> 
> I need a drink.


	13. Chapter 13

Sherlock strained from where he stood and groaned, leaning over and holding his belly as he gave a low moan. His legs trembled beneath him, but he gripped the bannister and gave low panting grunts as his contractions gave way to a shuddering sigh of relief, for the time being anyway.

“Sherlock, the midwife won’t be here for another hour.” Mycroft sighed, tossing his phone down onto the dresser and looking at the omega that was obviously getting very close to his delivery time, based on how he continuously paced around the room and stopped, more and more often. He would pace a few steps and groan, then stop and grip the edge of the table, dresser, or the bannister on the end of the bed. Sherlock would grunt and grip his stomach, his back, grumbling. Mycroft ran his fingers through his hair; feeling stressed knowing the child had decided right now would be the best time to come.

“Well, find another bloody one. There can’t just be one in all of bloody London.” Sherlock grumbled.

Mycroft watched as Sherlock grumbled and stood up as straight as he could, his hand holding his belly.

“Bloody hell, Benedict, you couldn’t have done this on another day?” Mycroft chuckled as he rolled up his sleeves and walked towards Sherlock slowly. He intended to help his brother into bed but Sherlock waved him away.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Mycroft.” The Alpha sighed and watched as Sherlock attempted to straighten up, but grumbled playful threats towards his son. 

“With such a lovely vocabulary, your son will come out with some beautiful language.” Sherlock glared at his brother before he began to waddle towards the armoire. Mycroft sighed and stood, watching as Sherlock’s long robe almost slithered across the ground.

“Sherlock, what are you doing?” 

“Packing. I am not waiting around for my son to drop from my womb into your arms while an unqualified midwife who cannot seem to prioritize her patients from her own personal daily idiotic bumbling about wastes my time. I’m going to the hospital to deliver my son.” Mycroft stood and grabbed Sherlock’s hand as he reached into the armoire again. Sherlock snatched his hand back and the two glared icy, intense that sent more than just rage.

“Don’t touch me, Mycroft.” Sherlock groaned as he grabbed his belly, but kept his head up to match the intensity of the eye battle. If looks could kill though, Mycroft would’ve been dead, and they both knew this. Sherlock’s anger was justified but Mycroft didn’t stand down. He knew he was in the wrong with his actions; but he knew how to take care of Sherlock more so than even Sherlock did, than anyone else.

“You cannot go to the hospital. You will be fine waiting for the midwife.” Sherlock slapped him away.

“You don’t have a say on anything that I do, Mycroft. My body, it’s my choice.” Mycroft sneered, knowing he wanted to act the opposite and hold his lovely omega and coax him through the labor, but Sherlock wouldn’t listen unless he acted the way he did.

“Try saying that when the hospital asks you where your Alpha is. You know pups conceived by rape are incredibly rare, so much as to why we don’t speak of them as often. They wouldn’t believe you because you didn’t make a case; social services would be called in.” Mycroft knew this wasn’t the specific case, but in some situations Omegas had lost their pups to the services, or at the very least had gone home with wary glances from the nurses and doctors.

Mycroft didn’t want Sherlock to have a chance at that, he would rather his precious brother keep his baby. He watched Sherlock’s eyes open a little wider in fear as he searched for a lie in Mycroft’s voice. When he couldn’t find one, he stepped back and dropped the clothes on the ground, clutching his belly as he began to sniffle.

“Mycroft, p-please, you wouldn’t let them-“Mycroft raised a hand, knowing every word that came from his mouth was nothing short of something to give Sherlock fear; but it was necessary.

“I would have no say so in the actions of social services. They will take the baby somewhere safe, away from its mother, so it could bond to another.” Sherlock clutched his stomach and groaned, lowing softly.

“Mycroft, my son and I are a-already bonded though. Taking him away-“Mycroft gripped his shoulders and they slowly made their way to the bed.

“Would more or less likely kill him. Again, I wouldn’t be able to put in any sort of word or command in Social Services, since I am the family being directly involved. Climb into bed, Sherlock. I will find another midwife to aid your delivery.” Mycroft collected his phone from the dresser top and Sherlock clambered into bed slowly. He sat with his legs apart, bracing himself. He felt as if he needed to use the restroom-inner tuition telling him this was the baby quickly approaching his birthing canal. Tears built in his eyes, but he waited until the door closed behind Mycroft to let them run down his cheeks- he would not show anything less than the simple defeat he had given the alpha.

Mycroft stepped from the room and sighed, hearing Sherlock beginning to cry softly. He opened his phone and sighed as he began to search for another midwife that would be available in the next hour to come help Sherlock.

Sherlock lay in the bed and listened to Mycroft talking quietly in the hallway, probably speaking to another midwife.

Sherlock felt pain and a contraction, his lower pelvic area blossomed with heat and he sat up, gripping the bed as he spread his legs; the baby was going lower and right now, Sherlock knew a midwife was not needed. Just someone to help.

“M-Mycroft! Mycroft! Get in here!” His voice was warbled with pain and the door opened with a swift bang as it hit the wall behind it. Mycroft hurried to his side and Sherlock decided to forgive him for the next ten to thirty minutes.

“Mycroft, he-he’s coming, I feel him.” Sherlock’s voice cracked and Mycroft gripped his phone as he bent over carefully, gently gripping the edge of Sherlock’s robes. Sherlock nodded as Mycroft looked at him- asking for permission. Once granted, he lifted the robes to see that Sherlock was indeed crowning, the baby’s head just a sliver of pale skin peering out of his opening. Mycroft lifted and rolled Sherlock’s birthing robes to around his hips. Sherlock tried to ignore the blush on his face as Mycroft undressed his lower half and spread his legs. He shivered as pain crept up his back and another contraction came.

“Sherlock, I need you to push with every contraction and stop once they pass, understand?” Through the tears and the low moans he was giving, Sherlock somehow was able to nod to answer Mycroft’s question. Mycroft gripped Sherlock’s knees and they both inhaled deeply, for Sherlock it was pain, for Mycroft it was a slight fear of doing something wrong.

Sherlock began to grip the sheets and groan, pushing with every contraction that came. With each passing minute he could feel his baby pushing more and more out of him, becoming harder and tighter as the baby’s head escaped his body and he stopped at the shoulders. Mycroft chuckled as he quickly wiped the babies face off.

“It’s alright, Sherlock, you’re doing fine. Just keep breathing, keep pushing. I’m going to try and get Benedict out.” Sherlock whimpered, but without being able to see much over the still swollen bump that was his uterus, he knew he had to trust Mycroft to do the job. 

He felt pain and he cried out when Mycroft’s fingers pushed into him; spreading him open to get the babies shoulders out. Within a minute, Mycroft had gently wiggled Sherlock’s baby out enough so that he could grab him. Sherlock gave one last push and a big cry of relief when Mycroft gently gripped his son and pulled; he felt empty as his son left his birth canal.

A small whimper went through the room, but outside of that, it was quiet. Sherlock blinked away his tears as he slowly sat up a bit more. Mycroft was holding his naked son, still attached to his umbilical cord, sopping wet with placenta fluid.

Sherlock knew he wasn’t done, the contractions continued until the placenta fell from his body and Mycroft grunted, knowing he would have to throw out most of the bedding.

He glanced around the room for something to cut the child’s umbilical cord despite knowing it wouldn’t be sanitary, but understanding it would have to do until the nurse arrived. 

He found a sharp pair of silver scissors beside the bed, in the top drawer. He cut through the umbilical cord with a bit of difficulty, the thick and almost gelatinous cord quivering like a tight string. It took a few times but he finally cut the whimpering pup free from its mothers placenta and then set the scissors down, his hands wet with bodily fluid and a bit of blood. He tried to ignore the sticky feelings on his hands as he lifted the small pup and handed him to Sherlock.

Sherlock, who panted and pleaded for the pain to be over jumped slightly when Mycroft’s arm touched his and he sat up a bit straighter to see Mycroft holding out his child to him.

The insatiable emotions that Sherlock had built up for the moment flooded him. He gently took his small pup, tears running down his flushed cheeks. He began to cry softly, overcome with a joy he couldn’t even show physically. He clutched the pale babe and sobbed loudly, wrapping his son in his birthing robes as the baby blinked and began to cry with his mother.

His hair was thick and curly, nearly exactly like Sherlock’s dense hair. He ran his fingers through it, the wet hair wrapping smoothly around his fingertips. The babe’s skin was pale, flushed with pink around his cheeks and mouth. Sherlock whined for his son to stop crying as the baby bawled his mouth pink and angry, feeling cold outside of his mother.   
His hands moved a bit, searching for the small walls inside his mother’s uterus to keep him comfortable. Sherlock chuckled and continued whining, hugging his son close. 

The baby stopped crying upon realizing his mother was whining to him, the bond between them opening, physically, for the first time. 

Benedict stopped crying and blinked at his mother, whimpering as he studied Sherlock for a moment. Sherlock let out a dry laugh upon seeing how dark blue his son’s eyes were a color that was not his nor his own mother’s, meaning the eye color was from his father. Sherlock clutched him and kissed his forehead, not taking notice as Mycroft stood and went to wash his hands and call for a nurse.

Slowly, Sherlock lifted the baby to his chest, where his, albeit very small, swollen breasts were leaking a small trail of milk, ready for the baby to suckle. 

He smiled greatly as his son quickly understood the wet trail touching his lips was meant for him to drink and his small pink lips quickly latched around his nipple. Sherlock smiled and clutched him closer, wrapping his silky robes around his babe, to keep his small son warm.

Sherlock sobbed, happily, sad, some emotion he couldn’t pin down. He wiped his eyes but couldn’t find the tears to stop flowing, bending to kiss son on the head several times, soft kisses showing his son love through their bond.

Mycroft sat by him on the bed once more, the mattress dipping in gently. He watched the exchange between the two, feeling a heavy weight in his chest that consisted of sadness. He knew after this, his brother would return to the hateful rage he felt towards Mycroft, and he was rightful to do so. It didn’t mean that Mycroft didn’t regret what he did, nor did it mean his emotions were left unscathed by Sherlock’s unwillingness to forgive him.

What hurt him would be the day Sherlock left.

He would try everything he could to keep Sherlock here, wrapped around his finger in a tight, protected embrace. 

Sherlock looked up and gave a sigh of relief as his son began to doze from where he suckled, both he and his mother tired and exhausted from their laboring. 

“I love you, Benedict.” 

XXXXX

Even though benedict decided to be quiet the day he was born, it seemed he had changed his mind on his volume level. Even the maids complained to Mycroft during the day, seeing as the baby only was quiet when he would be asleep, which hardly ever lasted long without the pup needing a feeding, or a diaper change.

Sherlock found himself wearing the same clothes for a few days at a time as he dragged his sons bassinet into his bedroom, making it easier for him to sweep up his small pup and feed him and then return him to his bed, or to just lie down in the same bed and sleep.

Sherlock glanced in the mirror, early in the morning once Benedict had fallen asleep, belly full of mother’s milk and the bond filled with hazy love. His eyes were a little red, swollen with the lack of sleep. Circles were appearing under his eyes, his skin a bit pale. He knew this was the signs of a hardworking mother with a week old babe.

Sherlock turned and glanced into the dim bedroom, the curtains pulled so any sunlight wouldn’t wake Benedict, but still a few slivers of the early morning sky finding their way into the room.

He turned back to the brightly lit bathroom and slowly opened his bathrobe, lifting his rumpled bed shirt to show off his frame. 

Despite being severely underweight before his pregnancy, Sherlock hadn’t seemed to gain much from his pregnancy. The nurse and Mycroft had attributed this to Sherlock not eating as much during the duration of his labor, and because of his unexpected swelling. Most of his body’s weight had been from his child.

Sherlock’s weight was slim, the only physical evidence that he had been pregnant, besides his son, was his stretchmarks. He wasn’t necessarily a healthy weight, but he was much closer to a healthier weight than he had been when he was on the drug-riddled path he had been crawling along before his pregnancy.

Sherlock heard whimpering and turned to see Benedict gently moving in his bassinet, and then he went still. 

The bond he and his son shared told Sherlock that Benedict had been slightly cold for a moment.

Sherlock gave a small sigh and left the bathroom, turning the light off as he did. He slowly slipped into bed, knowing his son would wake soon, and he needed some sort of sleep. His pale hand drifted to his son’s side and he gently rocked the bassinet as his son suckled on a dummy.

He knew he would need the strength to deal with his son and to pack.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mycroft stood in the doorway, adamant on having his presence not just known, but understood that he was to be heard by the small Omega that kneeled on the floor, packing. His son sat in a bouncer, squirming and crying loudly, bawling at the top of his small lungs as he demanded mother’s attention. Sherlock continued to shush him as he cast Mycroft glares.

“I am packing, whatever you have to sat can wait.” Mycroft adjusted his tie, knowing he didn’t want to play this role and make a battle between him and Sherlock, but if he did not intervene, Sherlock wouldn’t continue to see him as something akin to a figurehead.

“No, what I have to say is something that is important. You need to stop packing and-damn it all, Sherlock, your son.” A vein twitched in his head as Sherlock’s son strained to cry, screaming for his mother. Sherlock threw his clothes down and stood, unbuckling Benedict to bounce him and coddle him,cooing for him to be quiet. The pup quieted down a moment after Sherlock had clutched him close and Sherlock turned back to the doorway.

“No, Mycroft, I already told you I was leaving. I am going to see Mummy and Father for a while.”

“What good would that do you, brother?”

The two froze. The few words passed between them the past two weeks had been insignificant mumblings to see if Sherlock was alright or needed assistance with his son.

Sherlock felt himself grow a sneer and he turned back to his armoire.

“I am not your brother.”

“You are my brother. You and I were raised together; we share parents, even if it isn’t by blood. Going home to…a Vicodin addicted mother and strict-rule reigning father, I don’t see what good would come from that.” Mycroft sniffed, smoothing his suit down as Sherlock tried to pack while holding Benedict. Sherlock paused and held his son close as   
Benedict whined.

“I know Father isn’t happy with what I did. But he cannot simply hold a grudge against me for so long. Mother has always made sure to not show that side of her, Mycroft, so I don’t understand what you mean.”

Mycroft scoffed, knowing his upbringing had been much different. He pushed his hands into his pockets.

“You don’t seem to recall how the household maids took care of you? Or the fights that ensued between mummy and our father? Surely you must remember how she bumbled about the house in her night clothes and robe half the time with a glass of liquor in her hand.” 

“Shut up!’ Sherlock turned, face red, eyes watery with frustration. Mycroft was quiet and icy cold for a moment, emotionless. Sherlock felt tears running down his face and Benedict whined upon feeling the distress his mother was encountering. Benedict began to cry and Sherlock opened his shirt and pressed his son to his breast, knowing he was not hungry, but needed some sort of comforting he couldn’t provide solely right now.

Mycroft’s heart break was disguised by a sneer.

“Fine. You may venture home for a while, run away from your problems as if they don’t exist.” Sherlock nodded and turned back to gather his clothes from the floor, his shirt opening more as he held his son to his chest. Mycroft glanced away, feeling his upper body blush with heat at the sight of Sherlock’s breasts, knowing there was no reason to sexualize them whatsoever. His self control was highly restrained, considering his ache to kiss the Omega all over and apologize profusely, and the simply arousal of wanting to fuck the bent over omega until he cried for the Alpha’s forgiveness.

The perverted thoughts were pushed away as Mycroft turned to leave.

“You may leave once Benedict has his first vaccination shots.”

The omega stopped and Benedict gave a small cry as Sherlock stood quickly, the nipple leaving the pups mouth. 

“Benedict will not be receiving his first shots until he is four months old!” Sherlock shrieked.*

Mycroft nodded and shut the door behind him. He began walking briskly down the hallway, knowing Sherlock would sit in his room and steam about it for a while-

A loud shriek of rage came from the room and Mycroft felt himself choke up for a moment. He walked a bit faster, knowing he had important matters to deal with. He couldn’t help but feel sickly knowing he caused Sherlock so much pain, but this was for the best.

Sherlock’s angered yells and Benedict’s loud crying were not unheard, but simply dismissed.

XXXXXXX

Sherlock’s pillow was littered with tears, but he couldn’t help the small trails that trickled down his cheeks. To be trapped in Mycroft’s home, in London, until Benedict’s shots, was something akin to severe punishment.

He wiped his eyes and looked down at his sleeping child, watching as his lovely babe twitched in his sleep. His curls had grown thick and darker, his whole head full of thick black curls. He suckled softly on a dummy, to replace his mother’s nipple in the middle of the night. His son was still an alabaster tone, his small cheeks flushed with pink from his recent nursing. Sherlock smiled and drifted a finger through his son’s small head of hair, feeling nothing less than ultimate love for his son.

He slowly sat up and wiped his face, hoping to not disturb his son as he reached for his laptop. He knew his phone was much easier for Mycroft to track, and he didn’t want to be caught.

He quickly searched for the train times, and once he found a suitable time, he checked his bedside clock. The first train ran at six am, it was thirty minutes past four. He quickly stood and trembled as he hurried to his clothes that been kicked everywhere the day before out of a fit of anger. He had left them all on the floor.

He quickly began to bag up his clothes and hurried to zip a bag. He found another suitcase, and began to fill it with every item he thought necessary for his son. Most of his suitcase was diapers, but he had enough clothes to last him an estimated three months before he would need to purchase more to ensure his son had clothes that would fit.  
Sherlock placed toys, blankets, anything he could think inside before he shut it and zipped the suitcase shut. He changed, hurrying because he knew time was of the essence, to a pair of jeans and button up that was dark and soft. He draped himself in a soft Belstaf coat, hurrying to button it. 

He was double checking over everything, before he turned and saw a soft scarf hanging in his closet. He gripped it, feeling the soft knitted softness, wondering where it came from.

With no question, he draped it around himself and tied it around his neck.

He picked up a onesie he had set out and hurried to his son, knowing he would have to be woken up to be changed.

Benedict whimpered and cried softly as Sherlock woke him, changing his diaper. He decided to leave the dirty diaper on the dresser top as a literal “fuck you” To Mycroft once he discovered the Omega had left.

Sherlock slipped him into the soft bumblebee onesie and smiled as he placed his pacifier back into his son’s mouth and he slowly flexed his fingers before curling them back into fists and whining around his dummy.

Sherlock smiled, dropping a soft kiss on his son’s forehead, before pushing a pair of socks onto his son’s feet. He slid newborn mittens onto his soft hands, a snug fit hat onto his head and a soft newborn jacket. He placed his son into a carrier and wrapped him in a soft blanket. He buckled him in and glanced at the clock- he needed to depart now.  
He gently carried the suitcases down the stairs, his child’s carrier slung over his arm, gripping tightly by being pressed to his side. He struggled getting down the hall and even more on the stairs whilst trying to be quiet. He knew he wasn’t exactly being soft as a mouse, but he was more quiet than his usual. 

Sherlock was sweating when he got to the bottom of the stairs, but otherwise just gave a small huff and set the carrier down to wipe his forehead. He bent to grab the baby’s carrier when he glanced up and heard the floorboards squeak. He swallowed when a maid stood across from him, grasping a bunch of towels that were folded. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him and Sherlock watched her mouth open.

He quickly lifted a finger to his lips and shushed her and she jumped, and then clasped her lips together into a thin line. Sherlock nodded and then grasped the carrier, heading towards the door. He hurried to open the heavy, ornate door quickly and quietly. He highly doubted that the maid would stay quiet, frozen in shock for long. She would soon enough raise alarm.

Sherlock was thankful his suitcase had wheels on it, wheeling it behind him as he walked briskly down the sidewalk. He knew Mycroft would come after him for sure; but Sherlock did not mind that. He just knew he needed to get to the Holmes estate without an issue. 

Once under the Alpha’s roof that was his father’s, Mycroft would have no say so in Sherlock’s actions.

Sherlock felt the chill of London’s weather even through his warm jacket, and stopped for a moment, setting his suitcase down, then the carrier. Without a second thought, he squatted to check his son’s blanket and mittens, hoping it would be warm enough for the newborn. His son wriggled and gave a low whimper; crying for the warmth of his home and the safety of his mother. Sherlock knew his son would be waking up soon and decided it would be a good idea to get to the station soon.   
He pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead and tucked the blanket tighter around Benedict as his son began to slowly cry.

“I know, sweetie. But we’ve got to get to the station.”

He once again looped his arm under the carrier, this time turning it the other way so his son would not have to brace the cold wind against his face. He hurried a little faster, even though the closer he got to the station the more his heart sank.

Sherlock walked along the platform, feeling a little flushed at hurrying to catch the earliest train back.

He stopped beside a bench and glanced at his phone, then at the clock that sat in the station. He had been in such a haste to get there he had arrived early.

Sherlock sighed and wrapped his long coat around himself, setting his son’s carrier on the bench and slowly sitting next to it.

The station unfortunately did not have any rooms Sherlock could sit in and he knew the bathroom was not an option to feed his child- it was simply filthy and should never be considered an optional seating place to breast feed his child.

Sherlock listened to Benedict as he began to gurgle and cry and he shushed and cooed at his son, not wanting to take him out of his seat because of the chill. But Benedict didn’t side with his mother; he continued to scream and cry. Sherlock coddled him and eventually unstrapped him and held him in his blanket, cooing to him and holding him close. 

Benedict continued to puff his little chest and scream, his small face turning red and his little voice wavering.

Sherlock glanced around hastily and opened his shirt, pressing Benedicts face to his nipple and hoping his son would latch on. But Benedict turned his face away and cried. 

Sherlock tucked his small, swollen breast back into his shirt and wrapped Benedict into his blanket, bouncing him softly, feeling pained he couldn’t satisfy his son. He sent love towards his son, trying to get Benedict to give him some sort of stimuli response but he wouldn’t, he just continued to show his mouther that he was upset.

Sherlock glanced at the ticket office and saw that it still wasn’t open, he was cold and his son was sobbing like today was judgement day.

Sherlock felt himself welling up with emotion, hearing his son crying and feeling his dissatisfaction and hurt, Sherlock almost wanted to cry.

Sherlock hung his head and began to sniffle, trying to not show his son that this was putting stress on him.

A slight “mhm” was heard and Sherlock sniffed as he looked up, a woman standing in front of him. She was quiet and small, draped in a large rain coat. Her hair was a greying   
dirty blonde that was still elegant and curled, despite the rainy day. Sherlock exhaled slightly and his breath came out in cloudy wisps.  
Just a glance at her told Sherlock she was mid-50, though she aged gracefully it still showed through to him. 

She owned a very nice London house- no, it was flats now. Smoked medical marijuana-

Broken hip, nine years ago, still painful. Abusive husband.

Ran a drug cartel in her twenties, was a stripper in her thirties. Her ankles were still strong, her heels two inches taller than the sizes that were made for women her age, these   
were produced for a woman about fifteen years younger.

Wedding ring, unpolished. 

Bruise on leg, recently fallen- no, tossed.

Sherlock breathed heavily, trying not to cry and watched as she smiled, and set her large- reusable grocery bag on the ground. 

“Hello, dearie. Is the little one having some problems?” Sherlock slowly nodded as she sat next to him. 

“This your first one?” Sherlock nodded again, feeling a tear drip down his face from the forceful nod. The small woman nodded, and then held her hands out.

“I understand, may I, though?” Sherlock looked down at her hands and studied them for a moment, appreciating the respect this woman had shown when approaching the Omega   
and his son. Her hands didn’t alarm him- a cook, enjoyed making pastries, specifically biscuits and tea for her friends, played gin rummy on Wednesdays- and very slowly passed   
his swaddled baby into her arms. 

She cooed at Benedict softly, and settled him in her arms, so he faced her instead of looked up from a chest view. She gently held his head with one hand and her arms coddled him softly. She stared at him softly and began to hum, and Benedict blinked his wide, dark blue eyes open and hiccoughed a few times as he slowed his crying.

Once calmed, she stroked his cheek and his foot, and then passed him back to Sherlock.

“Goodness, he has a set of lungs. How old is the babe?” Sherlock blinked and held his son carefully with one arm to wipe at his eyes.

“He’s two weeks.”

“Ah, a young one. I don’t know his issue, but the little tyke seems to be missing something.”

Sherlock looked at his son and hugged him, upon realizing that he most likely was missing an Alpha presence.

“I think he misses his da.” She said softly and Sherlock nodded.

“Where’s the father? I’m kind of surprised to see a young Omega without his Alpha, specifically a new mother.” Sherlock looked at this woman, who was giving him the littlest warm smile that he had ever seen.

“Y-you’re very observant.” Sherlock coughed, feeling the chill as it seeped into his bones.

“Oh, have to be dearie. It’s a man eat man world. And also, I’m used to the stereotyped alpha and Omega relationship being seen everywhere. I should know, I had four kids and my alpha never left my side.” Sherlock wiped his eyes again and chuckled.

“I apologize; I’m not really one to show my weaknesses. My son is just missing an Alpha presence I guess. This is his first outing since he came home.” The little woman nodded with a face that seemed to show understanding.

“It’s alright to show weaknesses, love. Your son was crying and you couldn’t get him to calm himself; you’re also a new mother.”

Sherlock nodded and gave a small sigh, looking down at his son with a sniffle. His son blinked at him, those large dark eyes that weren’t his suddenly seeming bulbous and as if he could see right through Sherlock.

“Oh, dearie. The baby wasn’t from…consensual matters, was he?” Sherlock’s head snapped up faster than the wind, and he clutched his son, beginning to move away, but the woman waved her arms.

“Who are you? How do you-“

“No, no, no, no, love. I’m so sorry, I apologize, please sit back down.” Sherlock looked at her warily and settled back on the bench, not next to her, but on the bench anyway.

“I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to come off like that.”

“How did you even know?” Sherlock swallowed heavily and watch her eyes become a little sad, despite her smile still being warm.

“I knew that look on your face- it was how I looked for a few weeks after my second Alpha came along.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows raised and he gaped, then shut his mouth, then opened it, suddenly wordless. The woman took Benedict once more and patted his back, bouncing him in her arms. She gave a heavy sigh.

“Some Alphas force a bond, because it seems unfortunately they control things. And it leaves young, smart Omegas sitting at the station, trying to find a place to go with a new one.”

Sherlock nodded and again wiped his wet eyes.

“I saw you sitting here, sweetie, and just figured I could give you a helping hand.” She bounced the baby and smiled, as Sherlock turned to her, feeling so confused by what this random woman had been saying.

“I don’t think you…Omega’s can’t have more than one Alpha.” He got quiet, wondering if this woman even knew what she was saying and desperately wanting to snatch Benedict   
back. She frowned and puckered her lips.

“Of course you can, darling. You can have as many Alphas and Omegas as you want, even bonding with them. It gets a little harder with the more you have, but the only time you cannot bond with someone else is if the Alpha and Omega soul bond, which is…more deeper than a bond alone. It means you are bonded to only each other. Having a bond with anyone else is not possible or optional.” Sherlock swallowed and blinked, suddenly wondering where she had gotten her information.

“Th-that’s not-“

“Correct? I understand dearie. They don’t teach these things to the community, unfortunately. I learned though, taught myself, went to classes and the like.”

Sherlock felt his mouth become dry and he turned away from her.

“Oh, dear. So, tell me since you never answered, why is such a darling Omega like you sitting by yourself with a brand new pup at the station?”

Sherlock turned away as she handed back his son. He clutched Benedict to his chest as he felt overcome with emotion and began to cry softly.

He didn’t know how it came to this, spilling his emotions and thoughts of his private life to this woman who hadn’t done anything but take his son and calm him down. 

He told her about the drugs, about Jim, about the abuse he dealt with at his hand. He stumbled around the subject of his rape and eventually she took Benedict back as Sherlock   
sobbed, his tears dripping off his face as he leaned over to hug his knees. Benedict whimpered for his mother, but Sherlock kept prattling on.

He told her about Sebastian, about hiding his son’s true father, not knowing his Alpha, or if his bond was even fully there. He mumbled something partially coherent about Mycroft and how he had hurt Sherlock and lied to him. Sherlock sobbed until his pants were wet at the knees and he was hiccoughing as he settled down, what felt like much later, his entire face stiff from crying, and his eyes swollen and puffy as he turned to the little woman that had started rubbing his back and was coddling Benedict for him. Sherlock sat up and settled back, stuffing himself into his coat as he wiped his face along his sleeve, frowning at the slimy trail he left behind.

“Oh, don’t do that.” The little woman shuffled in her grocery bag for a moment and handed him a handful of tissues. He gratefully wiped his wet face and jacket sleeve with them before holding them tightly in his fist. He looked at Benedict, snug in the little woman’s arms before he felt choked up once more.

“It-it’s just the same situation over and over again. Everywhere I am, I have to escape and get away. E-everyone wants to hurt me and manipulate me a-and I don’t think I can handle any more of these ordeals. This was the last.” He sniffled and glanced around at the station as a few people began to show up for the trains. 

“And I’m afraid. I’m just copying myself in every situation I’ve ever been in, and what happens when I go home? Will I run from there, also?” He said softly. The little woman gave a heavy sigh and stood, handing Benedict back over. Sherlock took his warm son, hearing him whimper. He coddled him and gave him a small kiss as the little woman patted his shoulder.

“You’re running because you don’t understand how to deal with what you’ve been handed. You’re smart and very strong, look how much you’ve dealt with and how far you’ve come. I hardly doubt you’ll have any more problems, but if you do, you’ll know how to approach it.” She kissed the top of his head and dug into her bag for a moment. She pulled out a small Ziploc bag with two sandwiches and another with a few biscuits in it and handed it to him.

“I always carry around some of my homemade sandwiches and biscuits, in case someone is having a worst day than me.” Sherlock sniffled and slowly took the food, placing his son back into his carrier and the food was gripped softly in his hands.

“I- I don’t-“Sherlock stumbled over his words, not knowing how to feel from this woman who had sat with him for nearly an hour and listened to his pitiful life story. She held up a hand and smiled softly.

“Just say thank you.”

“Thank you.” Sherlock said quietly. She patted his cheek and stroked Benedict’s foot.

“You two will be alright. I have faith.”

Sherlock stood from the ticket window and watched as she disappeared around the corner, making sure she crossed the street safely. He purchased two tickets for his son and   
himself before turning to the platform. He slowly dragged his suitcases to the platform and handed his bags to the conductor, holding Benedict a little high up as he clambered onto the train. The conductor showed him to his seat and helped him place his suitcases into his small compartment, and Sherlock shut the door behind himself.

As the train loaded, he worried he would have to endure a compartment full of people, who glared at him as his son screamed or would cats him pitiful glances when they realized he was by himself.

But it stayed empty as people walked past him.

Sherlock smiled softly as he pressed his head to the cool window pane and touched the sandwich in his pocket, wondering why he hadn’t even gotten the woman’s name.

There was a jolt and Sherlock watched as two men in black suits started running towards the train.

The train began to pull away faster and Sherlock breathed heavily and clutched his son, as he watched the men try to stop the train. 

Sherlock shook as Mycroft appeared and ran beside the train.

The only thing Sherlock could see was Mycroft’s face.

It was full of anger, rage and sadness as he stopped running, panting and watching Sherlock.

The train pulled far away and the platform grew smaller, further away. Sherlock realized after a moment that his hand was pressed to the window. He slowly pulled his hand off   
and winced, turning away.

The ride would be long and he didn’t want to think about Mycroft’s face as the train had pulled away.

He reached into his pocket and took the sandwich and biscuits out.

XXXX

Sherlock clambered off the train and gripped his son’s carrier and his bags as he stepped away from the train. 

He gave a shaky sigh and looked around the station, feeling nervous and out of place. The sandwiches and biscuits in his stomach tossed and he held his sons carrier a little harder. Benedict had fallen asleep on the train ride after a hefty breast feeding.

Sherlock puffed his chest a bit and headed towards the doors, knowing there would be a car waiting for him, despite not calling for one. Mycroft may have been angry at him but Sherlock knew it would itch at him if he left Sherlock on his own.

He walked outside and glanced around, spotting the cab driver holding a sign that clearly said “Holmes”

He huffed as he strained to hold his son and his suitcases and walked towards him, giving a small exasperated sigh.

“Where would I be going if I got in this cab?” The cab driver sighed and reached into his pocket for the address, handing it to Sherlock.

Sherlock was grateful that the cab driver wouldn’t be taking him anywhere other than the Holmes estate and he gladly climbed into the back seat with his son as the driver placed   
his bags into the trunk.

Sherlock felt like he was holding his breath as the drive brought him closer and closer to his childhood home.

Pulling up to the front of the manor made Sherlock’s chest tight with an anxious exhilaration. He was afraid to be here, but he knew it was the only place he could be. He had run from everywhere else, and now he was back to the first place he had strayed from.

He set his son by the door as he gripped the large brass knocker on the door, and knocked it a few times against the dark wood of the door.

It opened after a few moments and Sherlock shifted, holding his son’s carrier a little higher.

“Hello, father. I’m home.”


	14. Chapter 14

The inevitable move back into his parents home went without an issue.

His father, whom he had not seen since he had departed the family estate to avoid his marriage, had merely given him a grunt and a wave to let him know he could stay. It went with a few words between the two that he could stay without hassle as long as he was drug-free (something he found ironic due to his mothers Vicodin addiction and crazed antics of running about the estate.)

But he didn't argue, and instead, moved his son and himself upstairs into his childhood bedroom.

It took a day or so to settle in. He crept up to the Holmes attic, something his father had rapped his hand about when he was younger, encouraging the small, lanky boy to stay away from the previous heirlooms and furniture that was up there. Sherlock knew his father would not care now that he was older, but he was still afraid his father would lash out and give him another scar on his pinky.

Sherlock put his son into his queen sized bed, thankful they had not tossed anything into the rubbish, and surrounded his newborn with pillows to keep him safe before departing, hopeful he would stay asleep for more than a few minutes. His sons transition to the new home hadn't been easy, he would not sleep for more than a few minutes, or an hour. His diapers were heavier and he suckled at his mothers breast for comfort more than hunger.

Sherlock sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he walked down the hall, padded in pajama pants and slippers. His room had been cleared since he'd last been here but other than that most of his items were still in there. His son would need a crib, and he knew his father had probably put it upstairs in the attic.

He traversed up the steps and opened the wide door to the attic by himself, not wanting to inconvience any of the help in case it wasn't there.

He walked into the dusty room and glanced around the crowded corridors created by years of furniture and items being locked away. It didn't take much to find the small mahogany crib, the most recent items being placed nearest to him.

Sherlock wiped off some of the dust as he pulled it from the corner and gave a sigh.

"Dirty old thing." He whispered. In reality, it made his heart beat painfully. He ran his hand along the side of it and remembered when his childhood had been a bit simpler. It hasn't been more than a few years before things turned awry for him and his family, with Mycroft moving out and his parents paying more attention to him as he began to grow.

Sherlock moved the crib a few times and saw that it was still useable, but he would not be able to carry the clunky item downstairs by himself.

He stuck his hands in his pajama bottoms and walked back downstairs softly.

The halls never seemed as quiet when he was younger, but now he felt like every portrait and painting were staring at him as he searched the large manor for someone to lend him a hand.

A few maids ignored him at first, knowing who which son he was and not wanting to give him help. He finally twisted a doorknob and poked his head into a room to find two middle aged men arranging items and dusting.

He stepped into the room and coughed and they turned to him.

"Oh, Mr.Holmes. Is there anything we can do for you?"

He glanced between the two and based by their weight and the way they stood he knew they were capable of carrying the crib without an issue.

"Actually, yes, would you two be able to help me? My son needs a crib, and the one upstairs in the attic would work for him. I'm not able to carry it by myself, would it be alright to ask you two for help?"

He produced a smile that could fool a psychiatrist, and the two men nodded. They followed him up to the attic and soon enough the three were gently moving the crib into his bedroom, making sure his son wouldn't be disturbed from his nap.

Promising to put in a good word with his father about the two, Sherlock thanked them and they left him to his own devices.

Not wanting to wake Benedict up, Sherlock left him be and instead cleaned the crib and went to unpacking their bags. He was able to fit his clothes among his older ones in his closet, and he put his sons items into his dresser, wanting easy access for a diaper or onesie.

Sherlock sat amongst the items on the floor and gave a quiet sigh, glancing at Benedict napping quietly on the bed.

He hoped this move would benefit his son as well as himself. He remembered growing up here, despite a few years in between being blurs of movement that he probably deleted from his memory. Only important things needed to be kept, he thought as he folded one of his sons shirts.

Sherlocks bed hadn't switched from a crib to an actual bed until he was five, past the age when it really should've been replaced already. His parents focused a bit more on Mycroft then they did the son they hadn't wanted.

Well, his father had, not his mother.

When he was three, his mother had slipped on their marble staircase and fell to the bottom of the thirty-five step staircase.

Her hip was crushed by the landing, and her addiction to Vicodin and painkillers had spiraled through the roof from that. She had already been addicted, the pills being the reason she had slipped, because Sherlocks pregnancy and labor had put her through pain and was harsh on her body, though there wasn't any understanding as to why it had been so terrible.

But his mother was a flouncy, airy woman who would stride about the house in her long robes and giggling at everything. The help would find her in the garden, tearing up flowers because she thought they were poisoning the ground. She carried Sherlock about when he was younger and coddled him in a way that made Sherlock uncomfortable to remember.

Sherlock tucked the crib in nicely so Benedict would be comfortable the next time he needed to rest and stood to continue cleaning.

X

Dinner in the Holmes house was, as always, a big deal. The cooks would make a three or four course meal, to show off the wealth they could display by gorging themselves. Sherlock came down the stairs slowly in a long night robe, it flowed around his ankles but he gave no mind to how feminine it made him seem. The gown was comforting to him.

His shirt was unbuttoned and pulled aside so his son could suckle at his mothers breast. Sherlock strode into the open, dining hall they dined at nightly. It was the one time of day the family could've been seen in the same room. His mother sat next to his father, pale, tired eyes watching intently as she wade her spoon through her tomato soup. Her gown was falling off her shoulder and his father, Siger, sat next to her, glancing at her in a way that made Sherlocks stomach throb uncomfortably.

He sat across from his mother, by his father, knowing he would protest if he didn't. He bounced his son as Benedict nursed and a maid set a bowl of soup, the appetizer, in front of him. His father was already finished, waiting for his family to finish also. He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, his trimmed beard moving awkwardly with the wipes he made.

"So, Sherlock. Are you settling in alright?" He asked, tone stern but otherwise awkward.

"I'm fine." He said quietly, rubbing his sons back as Benedict coughed.

"Does your room need any adjustments?" Sherlock glanced at his father and mother; she was looking... Well not at him. Through him, really, almost as if he wasn't there but still acknowledged him. He thought of the bedroom, with his light gray walls he had painted in his teens, and the one wall that remained blue with white clouds on it from his infancy. His mother had thrown a fit until passing out into the arms of several help once she found Sherlock painting over his infants-themed walls. The dressers were of strong, imported wood and his armoire was of the same.

He pressed his son to his chest and bounced him softly.

"No, it's fine as is, thank you."

"If ever needed, we can give your... Son,a bigger bedroom. The lad will need his own space."

"My son is only a few weeks old. There is no need for his own room." Sherlock said, albeit sternly. Siger gave him a hard look and gripped his hands together.

"Mycroft and yourself were in your own bedrooms from the first day. There was no need to keep you in the same room." He flicked his hand at Sherlocks son.

"Your son doesn't need to be doing that at my table." Sherlock sighed and pulled his robe gently over, just to somewhat hide his sons head.

"My son is feeding, thank you. Nothing wrong with a child being fed."

Siger coughed in annoyance and continued eating, and Sherlock shifted to feed his son in silence for the rest of the dinner.

  
siger motioned for Sherlock to follow him once dinner was over, and sherlock did just as so. He cradled his newborn son closely, and wriggled his sons diaper to check it wasn't wet before folllowing his father. His father opened the door to his study and ushered for Sherlock to come into the room he was once forbidden to step foot in, unless punishment was needed. The door was shut behind Sherlock in the small room and he felt uncomfortable. He settled into the leather armchair his father had sititng in front of his desk and held his napping son close. 

"So tell me, Sherly, how are you settling in?" his father poured a glass of scotch and took a sip.

"We're doing fine. The room is fine, as is." The two were silent and Siger drank more of his scotch.

"No, changes need to be adjusted?" The two were quiet.

"Your grandson could use a new crib, but outside of that, no we're fine."

Siger knocked back the rest of his scotch and set the glass behind him.

"He is _not_ my grandson."

Sherlock looked at his small pup, and back at his father.

"He is a Holmes, Father, and as much your grandson as he is my son." The two were quiet, but the tapping of Siger's finger on his knee, the crease of a wrinkle above his eye that showed he almost wanted to frown.

"Say whatever you have to say, father."

"Why were you so adamant about coming home?"

Sherlock coughed and crossed his legs carefully, making sure to not wake up his son. He cleared his throat, and glanced at his father's stern face, his chin tilted up a bit higher.

"you've spoken to Mycroft."

"I have."

"And what? You want my side of the story?"

"I'm trying to deduce the reason as to why my youngest son has returned home, for no other reason but to not have to work-"

"Mycroft and I have a compromised relationship! we always have, and anything he has said to endure your thoughts about me, father dearest, are not true in any sense!" The two's voices rose higher. Benedict, snuggled against his father's chest, whimpered.

 

Sherlock didn't notice.

 

"I returned home for my son and I's safety. You might not accept him as a part of the family, but he and I are staying here until I feel safe enough to return to London."

"and when will that be?" his father pressed his hands together and pressed his lips into a thin line.

"I don't know."

The two were quiet.

"Sherlock, what are you so afraid of?"

It was quiet as Sherlock stood up slowly, cradling his whimpering son carefully.

"The reason I'm afraid is why I didn't stay at Mycroft's, and why Benedict's father isn't present."

His robe billlowed slowly behind him as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried ti finsi this quickly without a lot of errors, okay?
> 
>  
> 
> I'm really drunk,and my thigh is reallyl blooody. 
> 
>  
> 
> How can I clwan up blood. Bathroom looks like a murder scene.


	15. Chapter 15

Sherlock knew it was a matter of time before Mycroft eventually wandered home, so it was no surprise when he walked downstairs after his third month of being at his family home, to spot Mycroft sitting in the dining, eating from a plate of china that was covered in eggs, toast, sausage links and a few biscuits to go with his morning tea. He had a copy of one of Londons newspapers in front of him; meaning, he had just arrived this morning, and he wanted Sherlock to know this.

The omega coddled his drooling son in his arms and ventured into the dining room to sit across from Mycroft, placing Benedict into his wooden high chair. His son made an expected gurgle, that ended with a giggle and his son farted.

Mycroft raised a brow at Sherlock, who ducked his head down to avoid having his brother witness the giggles he hid under his breath.  
“I see your son is doing well.”

In the three months since Benedict had emerged from his mother, he had gained a good, healthy amount, courtesy of the kitchen staff for providing good meals for a newborn.

His hair had begun to grow out more, making it thick and curly, which Sherlock continuously tried to attempt to hide under an infant hat for his son.

“He is, quite so. He suckles from my teat more often, and sleeps much easier.” Sherlock said swiftly, picking up his tea that a kitchen help set in front of him. He pulled his robe close over himself and crossed his legs under the table, settling, making himself look eloquent with undermining anger he still held for Mycrofts decievery. 

Mycroft and he eyed one another, before Mycroft set down his newspaper and crossed his ankle over his knee.

“Sherlock-“

“Save it, Mycroft.” Sherlock said cooly, sipping his tea.

“Sherlock,” Mycrofts fingers rolled together in annoyance at his brothers calm and collected demeanor that hadnt shown when he lived with Mycroft,”I haven’t come here to make matters between you and I worse, in fact I would prefer to make them better.” He gently pushed his finished plate away from himself.

“Which matter, the one where I was lied to about my family relations, or the one where my dearest brother nearly succeeded in tricking me to become his lovely bed Omega?” sherlocks voice was venoumous, but..calm. Mycroft’s face held no visible emotion, and neither did Sherlocks.

The air was icy between them. Sherlock ate without hesitation and Mycroft watched as he did, focusing on his brother’s outline, noticing he had gained enough to look healthy.

He fingered the edge of the newspaper and rolled the edges.

“Sherlock, I never intended to hurt you.” Benedict cried and threw the small bowl of mash on the ground, leaning over into his soppy mess. Mycroft’s nose crinkled at the sight of his brother’s son, but Sherlock never made a complaint as he pulled his son from the high chair and began wiping him off as he cried.

“No? Trading me to some sort of… insane Alpha with a connection to every drug deal, illegal shipments, and probably so much more was something you thought I would never get hurt by?” Sherlock said quietly, patting his son on the back as he tried to calm the crying child. He held Benedict to his shoulder and bounced. 

“I didn’t want anything like that to happen. We struck a deal; it was for the better good of London. James Moriarty is much more capable than he lets people know, and I feared for you if I just left you on the street. I knew he wasn’t the best option, but for you, Sherlock, it was.”

Sherlock wanted nothing more than to take his hand and slap Mycroft with the palm of it. He seethed inside, angry that Mycroft could not see how wrongful his actions were regarding Sherlock’s life. He straightened, patting his quieting child as he tilted his head back a little, looking into Mycroft’s eyes. Mycroft had once again become the Ice Man persona, putting his emotions away into a little box, hiding it from the world.

Sherlock had a mind palace, but Mycroft would never admit to owning one as well. His was more formal, while Sherlock kept his for any and all purposes. Sherlock knew Mycroft had a place where he stuffed his emoitons, just like Sherlock had a vault where he cataloged his son’s feeding and sleeping patterns.

Sherlock had not visited his since his pregnancy had ended.

Sherlock said nothing and instead, stood, leaving his unfinished plate and his sons mash on the floor. His son needed a new nappy and onesie.

Sherlock heard the chair scrap back on the floor as Mycroft stood.

“you cannot keep up these childish games, Sherlock.”

He stopped, feeling his robe wrap around his ankles. He didn’t bother to turn around, but instead turned his head slightly towards Mycroft without looking back.

“Feeling spiteful at someone for good reason is not childish, Mycroft. Now, you can leave me be. I don’t need another home ruined for me.” 

Sherlock finished on that thought and continued upstairs.

XX

The week passed without much event. Mycroft had settled into his old bedroom, a simple “vacation” from his duties in London.  
His father was incredibly happy the Alpha firstborn had come home alongside the Omega secondborn. His father and he talked political business while his mother drooled into a glass wine. The occasional cooing from his son would make them cast a glance over to the quiet Sherlock, and then back to speaking, in hushed tones.

Sherlock preferred to stay away, in his room where his son could cry without being glanced at like a heathen for being a baby.

Sherlock took the sunny weather that came along one random day, to dress his son in a light colored onesie and take him outside.  
He wandered into the garden, carrying a small basket with him as gentle winds blew the flower bushes around. Petals scattered and Sherlock stopped a few feet from his old honey bee hive.

The bees still buzzed around it and he smiled a little, being glad the groundskeepers were able to continue taking care of it.

He shifted his son on his hip and then set the basket down, opening it with one hand and putting a blanket down on the ground. He weight it down on the ends with small paperweights

The basket had a small lunch for he and Benedict, as well as toys for his son. He set his son on his stomach (Benedict had gracefully started holding his head up and rolling over onto his stomach, a much faster progression than most babies and now independently did it.) and gave him a small hat. He strapped it to his sons head, hopeful he wouldn’t need to put sunblock on his child just yet.

Paranoia set in within minutes and he lathered his son in sunblock that was safe. His son made grumbling noises and blew bubbles at his mother.

“Benedict, you will stop that nonsense. “He chuckled to himself. He settled back and opened his book as he let the wind blow his cardigan and hair. His curls bounced against forehead and he smiled as Benedicts hat flopped off his head and he tried to watch his flying curls as well.

Sherlock strapped the hat back on, then laid back against the blanket.

The sun made him warm and his child made giggling and cooing noises as he played with some of the toys.

Halfway through the book, Sherlock felt himself drifting off. The sun and comfort of the bees buzzing around him gave way to feelings of lethargy and Sherlock felt at ease.  
His cotton clothes and thin, knitted cardigan were suddenly the softest clothes he had ever worn, and the blanket and soft grass was the most form fitting bed he had ever slept on. The book was comfortably slumped against his belly and Sherlock sighed in bliss.

The soft crush of the glass under feet made Sherlock blink, and he turned his head, shading his eyes from the sun as Mycroft came to stand over him.

The light colored shirt he wore was rolled up to his elbows and Sherlock felt an odd sense of deva ju.

“Youre not worried the bees might sting Benedict?” Mycroft said softly.

“The bees will not hurt something that doesn’t attack them.” He said back in an off set manner. Mycroft sighed, and Sherlock glanced over at his son, to stop and realize

_Benedict was sitting up on his own._

Sherlock sat up and smiled, pressing a hand to his lips, shocked as his son watched the bees as they flew around him.

“Benedict is sitting up!” He leaned close and watched his son as wobbled, then steadied himself.

“Your son seems to be progressing fast.” Mycroft said softly. Sherlock didn’t look at him, but knew he was looking at Sherlock with remorse. It was quiet between them, and Sherlock sighed dramatically.

“Now what did you come out here to bother me with?”

Mycroft made a sound in his throat.

“We need to discuss Benedict’s vaccinations. You need to be a parent, Sherlock. Vaccinations and school are needed for Benedict to succeed.”

Sherlock cast a glance behind him.

“Fine. Make him an appointment in the city.” Mycroft was quiet, and he turned away.

“Sherlock, I don’t intend for you to listen to me, but i…I-“

“ _Don’t_. Just…don’t..” Sherlock interrupted, then went quiet as Benedict turned and put a hand on his mother’s chest. Tears brimmed behind his eyes, the demeanor broken. He tried to stay quiet as Mycroft walked away.

Once the ginger haired male had left, the tears dripped down Sherlock’s face and he let out a stuttering exhale as his son blew bubbles.

Mycroft and Sherlock were aboard the train to London within a week. The day was cold, rainy and Sherlock held Benedict, bundled in layers to keep his son warm, close on his lap.

The decision to bring Mycroft along was not something he had fully agreed to, but Mycroft promised to come as nothing more than an escort, for safety and payment.

Hospitals wouldn’t be so kind to Sherlock upon discovering he had no Alpha in his life. Alpha-less Omegas were seen as unruly and prominent to fail, because without an Alpha most Omegas succeeded in falling into debt, alcoholism, drugs or anything that proved they were unworthy parents. Sherlock could remember reading his first newspaper and stumbling across the story of a thirty-eight year old Omega who had her Alpha walk out on her and leave her and three pups by themselves. The authorities took her children away because lack of parental supervision, and her delving into alcohol abuse.

Sherlock clutched his son a little harder and listened to his whimpers. 

Sherlock knew it was wet and rainy and perhaps his son felt the same chill in his bones as he did.

XX

Sherlock did not like the hospital waiting room.

Mycroft sat with an ankle over his knee, scarf around himself as other patients quietly flipped through old magazines and coughed. Sherlock hugged his son a little tighter, but

Benedict whined. He had been comfortable sleeping in his carrier, and his mother had taken him out of his warm, dim area until they reached the clinic and he was unbuckled.  
Sherlock bounced Benedict carefully on his knee, eyeing people around the room.

He could tell things about people, just by looking at them. The blonde woman across the room with a faceful of tissues didn’t have a cold, she was allergic to her daughters new pet rabbit. The rabbit was bought to keep her five year old quiet upon discovering the mothers cheating.

The seventy year old man with a runny nose and a sore lump on his jaw would discover it was a strain of cancer in his throat.

The child running around screaming did _NOT_ have ADHD like her mother (who was more involved in her conversation on her cellular device) thought, but instead was just coming down from a sugar rush that her mother didn’t seem to care to monitor in her diet.

Sherlock knew how many dogs someone owned, or the fact the child across the room was secretly hiding a pet in their tool shed (it was a snake or large lizard.) He could tell which people in here were big business owners, and which were working three jobs to cover a mortgage payment.

 _“Holmes?”_

Sherlock glanced up at the nurse that was donned in scrubs, her shirt not matching the standard blue pants, but instead was dusty pink and covered in shoddy printed characters to appease younger children.

He stood, Benedict on his hip, as he followed the nurse back down the hall. Sherlock sat on the examination table with his son on his lap as the nurse took his vitals, asked questions about his habits with eating and sleeping, then left Sherlock to squirm on the crinkly paper while his son cooed softly.

Sherlock, for some reason he couldn’t explain, felt his heart racing. He felt an instinctive pull in his chest and his eyes widened as he realized-

The man that stepped through the door next was the doctor and Sherlocks heart leaped into his esophagus. He started breathing heavy, he squirmed and the paper crinkled again. He was clinging to his own son now, feeling close to hyperventilating as the doctor looked up, a small smile disappearing on his face.

The dark blue eyes raked over Sherlock and Sherlock could feel him looking into him.

It was silent for a moment.

Then,

_“Omega.”_

The Alpha leaped.


	16. Chapter 16

 

Mycroft sighed softly as he placed the tip of his umbrella to the floor, hearing it clack quietly.

A trip to the hospital was usually never followed by your sibling being attacked by a doctor. 

Mycroft sighed and motioned for the two men he had called to be escorting him form the moment he had to pulled Sherlock off the doctor. The young Omega was sitting in the Dean of the hospital’s office, filing a police report. Hospital security stood outside the door of both the office and the examination room where the doctor was being held for questioning.

Mycroft was able to get in with a quick flash of his government identification access card, and he walked in, umbrella handle grasped tightly. The two men stood outside the door with the guards, quietly. It was quiet in the clinic halls except for the hush-hush mumblings of the patients that were being redirected to other parts of the hospital for their check-ups.

Mycroft stood in the examination room, eyeing the small hospital exam room. There was a curtain that was partially open, and the table, with ripped paper, was next to it. He didn't pay any mind to the small counters off to the sides, full of needles, gloves and the whatnot. 

The clipboard was on the floor. The doctor was on a stool.

Mycroft sighed once again and leaned onto his umbrella, waiting for the doctor to raise his head from where he held it in his hands.

He observed the man as he slowly looked up, leaning his head to the side. The male doctor was small, not exceptionally small, but most likely a few inches under his own height (and he was tall for a male) but for an Alpha, it was a tad small. He had a wrinkle around his eyes, from stress, and from a bit of aging. The doctor had short blonde hair, cut in a fashion a man out of the army would have. He had no pets, no omega, no wife, no husband. He barely could rent out his own flat.

He was a bit tanner than most, and Mycroft studied him for a brief second.

“Iraq or Afghanistan?”

The doctor dropped his hands and turned his dark blue eyes on Mycroft, who noticed his round, chiseled jawline and chin, and long nose. The doctor, with sad eyes and an ID tag that said “ _JOHN H. WATSON_ ” was clearly read.

“What?” He said quietly. Mycroft straightened.

“You were an army medic. Iraq or Afghanistan?” 

He watched Johns adams apple move as he visibly swallowed.

“Afghanistan, mate. Who are you? Where are the cops?” Mycroft let out an exhale.

“My name is Mycroft Holmes. The Omega you assaulted-“

“ _Oi_ , he punched me as well-“ John was interrupted by Mycroft as he stepped forward and thrust his umbrella into the doctors chest.

“ _You_ assaulted the Omega, Mr. Watson. He did nothing but defend himself against your heinous attack.” Mycroft pulled the umbrella back and John swallowed, his hands gripping one another in anxiousness.

John ran a hand through his hair, feeling anxious and guilty. He had leaped at the Omega, who had landed a punch to his face, then pulled away in time for John to fall to the floor. The omega and baby were yelling, screaming for help as John tried to-tried to grab him-hold him-touch him- _smell-Omega-Omega-OmegaOMEGAOMEGAOMEGA-MINEMINEMINEMINEMINE-_

Then the Alpha was kicked in the face.

He hadn't been bruised or injured much by the small, cowering Omega who had a young child in his arms, but it still hurt.

“What do you have against the omega?” John sighed, then turned a wary eye to the ginger haired man in front of him.

“Mycroft, you said was your name. Why are you so concerned for this Omega? What relation is he to you?”

Mycroft gave a dry laugh.

“I thought I was the one doing the interrogation, Dr. Watson.” 

John grit his teeth.

“That omega is my brother. His name is Sherlock. And as far as im concerned, you and he have never met.” Mycroft raised an eyebrow and John couldn’t help himself. He knew from the moment he stepped in the room that the Omega in front of him was the one he had been looking for, for months. His Alpha, is Omega-less Alpha, had gone a little feverish and wiry from sudden exposure. Christ, John hadnt even been able to tell what the beautiful Omega looked like fully.

“I-I-I don’t know.”

“I believe you do, John.” John felt anxiety bubbling behind his breast plate.

“I do, alright. I lied, I do. I just,” he glanced up,” I need to know, what youll do if tell you.”

Mycroft already knew what John was going to tell him, he was not naïve.

“I wont harm you, or arrest you if you think that’s what ill do. I am simply here to figure out what happened between you and my brother.”

John was deeply inhaling and exhaling by now, his chest shaking a little, his eyes were brimming with slight tears.

“Please, I don’t really know.” 

“You do, John, tell me.”

“I cant-“

“ **TELL ME, JOHN**.” Mycroft’s voice was deep and shaking and John stood to his feet, chest heaving, angry now. His canines were poking into his bottom lip, and Mycroft glared at him as the Alpha grew a few inches in height to accomadate his anger.

“I don’t know! I don’t! I swear. I…I was walking home, I had food, there…there was a group of Alpha’s in the street, a squirming Omega in between them. He was in heat. It wasn’t my fault, I tried to resist. He let himself be in that spot. You know how Alphas and Omegas are- theres no way to stop one when theyre about to mate.” John had gone back to his regular height and his canines sank back into his gums. John turned his head away.

“I woke up, and… and I ran like a coward. I never wanted to hurt him, I never wanted to bond either. I just wanted to help. I’m a doctor, its all I want to do…I swear.” His voice was quiet now and Mycrofts grip relaxed on his umbrella handle. The doctors body language was enough to convince him that John was telling the truth, and felt remorse when discussing it.

 

Mycroft inhaled deeply.

 

“Dr. Watson, I believe you. But, it is not I who needs to hear your remorsefulness.”

 

**X**

 

Sherlock sat in the Deans office, clutching the crying Benedict in his arms. 

The doctor had jumped at him, pounced, and Sherlock had no choice but to swing his fist in a screaming yelp. Once the doctor hit the floor, Sherlock swung his foot into his face.

The Dean, Sara, was standing by her desk, watching Sherlock with wary eyes. She had been the one to pull Sherlock away from the doctor and kept him in the office until security and the police were able to separate the mass of people in the clinic.

The door opened and the guard by it stepped back as Mycroft and the doctor walked in. Sherlock held his squirming, screaming baby closer and tried to pat him to stop the sobbing of the scared baby.

Mycroft stood by the doctor and a guard stood on the other side.

The Dean stood up off her desk and sighed.

“Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson. Is there anything we-“ Mycroft held up a hand.

“Dr. Watson has something to say.”

John swallowed his saliva and raised his eyes to look at the Omega in front of him. He was stunned, and his adams apple bobbed.

The small, thin omega on the couch was prominently displayed in darker clothing, which greatly accented his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. He had thick curls adorning his head, and his eyes, _Je_ _sus_ , his eyes were every color known to man clouded over with silver.

If Sherlock had his perverted sense of mind like he had before the bonding, he would tell to the Omega to sit on his face and let him say the alphabet. He was bloody drop dead gorgeous, with pale skin and slender features. John could see small, very small prominent breasts on his chest, from nursing obviously. 

The child in his lap was small, and pale, and John remembered the child was there for his first shots, so he was incredibly young. He had the same dark hair and curls that Sherlock had.

Except the eyes.

Johns heart stopped when he realized the childs eyes were a dark blue hue and his stomach knotted as the baby stopped crying and stared intently at him.

“ _He’s beautiful._ ” John whispered. 

Everyone in the room paused for a moment.

“Dr. Watson?” Sara coughed. Johns attention went to her, but instantly back to the beautiful pair on the couch.

“ _uh_..I…I mean, I’m sorry for what I did. My actions were completely out of line.” He said quietly.

Being in the same room, John wanted again to pounce, but his actions were much calmer now, though his heart still thumped in his chest. He felt anxious not touching the Omega; he noticed the Omega squirming a bit in his seat as well.

“Thank you, John. I hope to not make this any worse than it already is, and frankly, Mr. Holmes, I would love it if there was some sort of agreement we could come to instead of pressing charges on the hospital and the doctor.” Sara said, her voice monotone and serious. She was angry at John and uncomfortable with Mr. Holmes’s presence because of his government status. Mycroft smiled, a dry one that never reached his eyes and clapsed the umbrella.

“Yes, well, seeing as Dr. Watson is feeling much guilt from the incident and has apologized, it seems to we wont have an issue.”

“ _Don’t I get a say in this_?” The baritone voice that spoke up from the couch made Johns heart leap even faster.

“Y-Yes, Sherlock, was it?” Sherlock eyed him.

“What if I wanted to press charges?” Mycroft eyed him as well.

“Sherlock, be quiet.” He hushed.

“No, I will not, Mycroft.” He turned to the Dean.

“Can my brother and I have a moment of privacy, please? I think we need to discuss some things.” Mycroft immediately turned to Sara.

“Actually, make it Dr. Watson as well. There are several things im afraid that need to be discussed, that could…compromise his relationship with you.” Sara bit her lip and looked between the two Alphas and the Omega on the couch. It was odd and she felt disappointed by being left out; she didn’t make any complaints and nodded as she left, motioning for the guard to leave as well. She cast a glance at them.

“You all have five minutes. I need to get my hospital back under way.” She shut the door and Mycroft placed his hand over the one he gripped the umbrella with.

“Now, what we need to discuss is only between us. We don’t need anything to become more complicated for us, now do we?” Mycroft turned to Sherlock with a grim look.

“Sherlock, do you remember this man as the one who assaulted you?” 

John and Sherlock shared a look and Sherlock squirmed.

“Mycroft-“

“ _Sherlock_ , answer me.”

It was quiet and John squatted down slowly, eye level with the baby in Sherlock’s arms that was constantly staring at him. Sherlock was green in the face and John hoped being lower than him would encourage the Omega to open up a bit.

“Whats his name?” He asked quietly.

The room went quiet.

“Sherlock, we only have five minutes.” Mycroft pressured.

John bit his lip.

“Its alright, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Benedict.” Sherlock said quietly. The baby waved his arms and smiled. John smiled and it seemed to relax Sherlock a bit as he reached a finger out.

“He’s beautiful.”

Sherlock pulled at his sons curls softly, and smiled. John felt his heart flutter as the two seemed to suddenly pass emotions between the bond that had once been closed off. It was all real to John now, and he couldn’t believe it. Here was his Omega and he wanted to yell to the world how he couldn’t believe it.

“Hes yours, you know.” John cupped a hand over his mouth and watched as the baby blew a bubble.

“Sherlock, it is against my will and despite how much I oppose it, I unfortunately must tell you that as according to the law, well…”

The two glanced at him and Mycroft sighed heavily, upset with himself.

“You will have to live with your Alpha in his own abode." Sherlock and John whipped their heads toward Mycroft.

“ _ **What?**_!” Sherlock and John yelled at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my readers. Please, I ask you to take a moment of your time and read this.
> 
> I am only updating more often for two reasons.
> 
> 1\. I crashed my car on Monday, April 11th. I am not injured, and neither was the other person in the accident, but my car was wrecked and I can't get it back, I have no money to fix it, and fixing it would cost more than buying a new (used) car.
> 
> 2\. I lost my job. I was a delivery driver, but now I can't work. I cannot even get around town.
> 
> The reason I bring it up is because I am already having financial issues, I cant afford groceries, and I have 2 loans already to pay off. I can't get another loan, I don't qualify, the first ones were from family members who were nice enough to help us as long as we paid them back...which we could when i had a job. I have friends helping me out, but three or four people can only do so much.
> 
> SO PLEASE, help a writer out? I have a GoFundMe page that will include more details. 
> 
> Please, I'm not asking for $50 from everyone. Even just a $1 would help, or even if you cant spare anything, PLEASE share the link. Share it to Insta, Tumblr, everywhere you can think. Please get it attention is all I ask, ESPECIALLY if you have a social media account that gets a lot of followers or attention! I have tried reblogging and sharing it all over, but no one is very keen on sharing or helping a girl out. I understand there are other, better reasons, to donate, but I'm desperate at this point. 
> 
> https://m.gofund.me/m8yvmumc is the link. If this doesn't show up, I'll post it again in the next chapter.
> 
> Please, thank you. Anything helps, like I said, EVEN JUST SHARING IT helps SO much, like SERIOUSLY this takes three seconds and will put it out there for more people to see. PLEASE.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I’ve seemed to have gone off the grid for a bit, eh? I had a factory job for a while that was third shift. My hours were backwards and my schedule was off, so writing was a no-go. I got fired for something that wasn't my fault, so I’m back here, writing again, because I have the time now that I'm a slave to people who bitch about $3 nachos.
> 
> You’re welcome.

_“Mr. Holmes_ , “ John started, after excusing the Omega and his son from the room, he turned to the elder brother,” I believe you have some sort of idea that I will be taking your brother into my home, as if I’m okay with this all of a sudden.” He was exasperated the off-putting man had said Sherlock would be _living with him_ , acting on his own with the decision. Mycroft cleared his throat and stood up straight, holding his umbrella down in front of himself. He gave John Watson a look then straightened his lapel.

“Sherlock was an Omega with a child, living without his Alpha. He could get his son taken from his custody just for that reason. No one would believe his son is a product of sexual assault, therefore rendering his case of not living with his known Alpha useless. I’m trying to prevent this from happening, and trying to keep my brother from being slandered by the community. I also don’t want the chance for you to try and sue my brother for withholding your parental rights.”

Mycroft’s stomach hardened in response to wondering what would happen if one day, just one wrong person pondered about his brother’s Alpha’s status and Sherlock would be investigated. It was a harmful scene to process and he looked down at John.

John’s fists were clenched and he turned to glance at the Omega  outside the door, standing outside bouncing his whimpering child. The small Omega warmed his heart in a way he hadn’t felt before and he swallowed, not sure how to take the next few steps with this. He turned away from the sight.

“My. Holmes, I have a fiancée, and I live in a small flat. I have, perhaps, just an extra room for Sherlock and the pup, and it happens to be my office. They won’t fit with me, nor can I afford the extra money, or how to explain this to her.” John ran a hand through his hair, and Mycroft raised an eyebrow at him.

“You should’ve pondered your actions before then. I feel no sympathy for you, Mr. Watson. Whatever the reason, you are a sex offender, a _rapist,_ in my opinion. You will take care of my brother and his son if not, there are consequences you will have to pay.” Mycroft and John exchanged cod, hard looks, and Mycroft straightened his tie as he turned to leave.

“I will cover any necessary requirements for funds for Sherlock and living arrangements, but nonetheless, be expecting his arrival within the week, Mr. Watson.” With that, Mycroft left, opening the glass door, taking Sherlock by the arm and leading them out.

John stood there, exasperated, stressed, thoughts running through his mind; wondering why he didn’t run after the two, considering the strange man was taking _his Omega-_

John inhaled.

Exhaled.

Inhaled once more.

He needed to keep his head calm and not be reckless.

Sarah stepped into the room and crossed her arms, looking at him.

They didn’t speak.

 

**XXX**

Sherlock was hastily packing, tossing clothes into his suitcase. Benedict was crying in his bouncer, but Sherlock was too panic-stricken to worry about his son.

Mycroft was adamant about his moving in with the Alpha, and Sherlock just couldn’t do it. He continued packing, wondering what to take and leave when he decided to just keep it all.

There was a knock on his door he didn’t hear and Mycroft, gving a sigh, stepped into the room. He watched his brother packing with an anxious flutter before he bent and unbuckled Benedict from his bouncer, calming the baby. Sherlock turned, jumping as he finally realized Mycroft’s presence was behind him. They both stood, awkwardly, not knowing what to say, but Mycroft had to break the silence.

“He’s gotten big.” He slowly handed the baby back to Sherlock, sliding his hand over Benedict’s full head of hair. Sherlock awkwardly dropped the shirt he was holding to take his son and gathered him into his arms as the baby cried to be nursed. He unbuttoned his shirt to feed his son and Mycroft at on the ottoman at the end of his bed.

“Sherlock, I know you're frightened-“ Sherlock turned away and kicked the suitcase, cursing seconds later when a metal hinge caught his foot.

“Mycroft, how can you possibly know anything? You don’t seem to consider others in any sense of the word when you make decisions. I don’t want to live with him. I am fine here, with mummy and father.” Mycroft rubbed his forehead, and looked at the thin Omega, studying him for a second. It was true, that Sherlock ws doing well here. He looked better than he had at Mycroft’s and frankly it was shocking, considering their mothers Vicodin addiction and their father’s lack of care and yet, strict ruling over his sons, Mycroft thinking the two combined forces would cause mayhem.

He gives way to his memories for a moment, recalling how three of the Holmes under one roof was like chaos. Mycroft, coming home to his father’s screeching about how Sherlock was doing one thing or another, whether it was skipping classes, blowing up items of importance, or the day Sherlock left his family and fiancé behind. His father was losing his patience with the boy and without Mycroft’s support, Sherlock most likely would’ve been disowned.

“Sherlock, I _was_ thinking of you. The horror that would come if John Watson was smart enough to get Children’s Services on the phone, to get them involved…Sherlock, you know, just as well as I, that Omegas living without their Alphas are always the ones to lose their children, to never get an opportunity to press forward.” Sherlock, who was bouncing his child in his arms as he nursed, looked over at Mycroft from the window. His eye were stern; scared; unsure what to say or do.

“More Omegas are thrown in mental hospitals to avoid any confrontation of them in the family or the children’s lives…like their asylum patients or worse.” Sherlock hissed. Benedict whined and Sherlock’s attention went to his son; he readjusted the baby and made sure he was latched on again before diverting his attention back to Mycroft.

“Mycroft… I don’t want to live with him.” Mycroft and Sherlock shared an intense look, one of fear and loneliness. Sherlock’s voice wavered, and his bottom lip trembled. That’s all it took for Mycroft to stand and make his way to Sherlock’s side in a moments notice. His fingers trailed Sherlock’s side, but Sherlock ducked his head, not looking at his brother. His attention was on his son; the floor; anything but him. Mycroft didn’t expect his brother to share the same conflicted feelings as he, not for the same reasons anyway, but he couldn’t help his own.

“Mycroft. I can’t.” His voice, wavering with uncomfortable feelings and unsureness, hurt Mycroft in a way he hadn’t expected.

“Sherlock-“ the Omega turned and laid his son in the crib, draping a blanket over his sleeping child; his breasts still leaked with milk, unfinished nursing from the sudden drop his son had given him. He stood and Mycroft gently took his thin shoulders and turned him, so close, yet so far.

“At least, let me lay my scent on you. It will keep him from trying to press you into something you’re not ready for.” Sherlock inhaled, and looked up, not moving his head from his down casted view. Mycrofts heart raced; heat settled low in his belly.

“Yes, but will _you_ be able to stop yourself?” Mycroft licked his bottom lip, slowly nodded, shutting his eyes for a moment.

“I won’t pursue anything you might not be ready for, Sherlock.” His eyes opened and they looked at each other.

“Mycroft, you betrayed me in a way I can’t help but never forgive. I won’t be ready for anything, with you, again. Don’t you think ive suffered enough?” The two were quiet, Mycrofts hands were still on his sides, his fingers barely ghosting over his sides. Their eyes flicked back and forth, trying to understand what the other was thinking.

The Alpha and Omega were challenging the other to make the first move, and Sherlock was the first to look away. He gave in; his submission was evident. Mycroft restrained himself; but he still found himself on top of Sherlock, the bed beneath them soft and pushed down. Sherlock was quiet, Mycroft was heavy and groaning. His face was nestled into Sherlock’s neck and shoulder, the shirt was pulled out of the way. He was kissing and biting softly, scenting Sherlock as he sniffled. Sherlock let him, lowering his shaking hands as Mycroft gripped him, sniffing Sherlock up and down, licking, lapping at his breast milk, thrusting softly…

Mycroft leaned up on his hands, hovering over Sherlock. The two were panting; Mycroft from the exuberating act of leaving his scent on Sherlock, Sherlock from letting his brother perform such lewd acts. They wouldn’t have been so dirty if Mycroft had done it in a less-than romantic way. Brothers and sisters, cousins and parents scented their relatives when the other felt vulnerable in an area of strange Alpha’s or Omega’s, mostly the latter.

Mycroft’s lips were plump and red, and Sherlock watched him avert his eyes; his length was hardened against Sherlock’s stomach and he wondered if Mycroft would continue or if he would have to tell him to leave. Mycroft’s head was ducked and he pushed his forehead into sherlock’s neck. He gripped sherlock’s arms.

“Tell me to stop.”

“Mycroft-“

“Tell me to stop, otherwise, I won’t.” Sherlock’s eyes widened as Mycroft’s physique grew. His body began to stretch, his mass was larger, and- oh lord, even his erection was growing.

It was normal for Alpha’s body to regenerate cells faster, in a reaction to anger, protection, or feelings of sexual desire.

Sherlock preferred to not know which was the option in this case.

“Mycroft.” His brothers physique deflated back to its orginal size, and he sat up.

“Please... Leave.” The ginger-haired male nodded, stood, and on his padded feet, left. He stopped at the door, glanced back at the silent Omega, then left.

The silence was mind numbing, and for the first time in months, Sherlock wished for drugs to quiet the voices in his head. Everything was too much, too much, too much…

The lights were out, he wrapped a damp cloth around his head to block out the lights and sounds, to cool himself down. His son may have slept soundly but Sherlock did not.

His heart was racing, and he could feel John Watson’s was  as well.

The bond was open. Just barely.

But he felt like he knew everything the Alpha was feeling.

He shut it, closed it, rolled over and tried to sleep.

 

XX

 

“I don’t.. John, what’re you trying to tell me?”

John stood in the bedroom, arms crossed, leaning against his dresser. His fiancée stood in the bathroom, cleaning herself, grooming in a sense. John didn’t want to go in, didn’t want to face her. He had settled with her, she was…she was the best thing he could get.

Not to say she wasn’t _good_.

She was downright lovely. She knew how to cook  bit more than he did, but she seemed to know well enough to keep his belly happy. She kept up with the news for him, and they grocery shopped together, even if he couldn’t deal with the chip and pin machines without wanting a row with an automated voice. She took care of the house while he worked.

Mary was lovely.

Even if she wasn’t fully, hundred percent what he wanted.

But that’s what happened when an Alpha settled for a Beta.

The faucet turned, the water stopped. Mary poked her head out of the bathroom, a wash cloth in her hands, a robe over herself. Her hair was damp from where she had just washed it and John could smell the toothpaste from where she had just brushed. She turned the light off, and looked at him, eyes unsure. John could see she was confused, and he knew he had to find s _ome_ sort of excuse for this.

Suddenly telling her he had impregnated a young, drug-addicted Omega with no relations to him whatsoever wasn’t something he intended to do.

Ever.

They stared at one another for a moment. John knew the excuse, knew what he had devised to get by, but he was afraid of Mary seeing through it.

“You think we need a flat mate?” She looked at him strangely. He rubbed his hands together anxiously.

“Well, you know we always…we plan out money, but it never seems to come in. What would be the harm in allowing another person to stay with us for a bit? Share the rent?” She frowned and nibbled on her thumb for a moment, looking away from John. Not seeing her face made him anxious.

The whole stuation made him anxious. His heart ached at the thought of hurting Mary if she ever found out. Sherlock would have to be told to keep quiet about it all. He didn’t want the Omega here, not now that he had seemingly moved on.

“I don’t know, John. Sharing a flat with someone I don’t know seems frustrating.” John wrapped his arms around her as she turned away and rubbed her shoulders.

“Let’s just do it until I get that promotion, eh?”

 

XX

 

Sherlock sighed and closed his suitcase, zipping it shut. Everything he needed was packed, organized. He looked around his bedroom he had resided in for a short time, again, and determined nothing else needed to go. His son’s crib would be taken back to the attic, and Mycroft was providing whatever he needed from his house at Sherlock’s new place.

His son was bundled into his carrier, draped in a soft, knitted afghan. It wasn’t cold enough for his son to be stuffed in a suit, but he knew it might still be chilly for a young pup.

A knock on the door came and he watched as a few help came in to take his bags outside and Mycroft waited in the hall. Sherlock blushed at the memory of Mycroft sucking on his leaking breasts from the other night and turned away as he stepped out into the hall. Mycroft adjusted his suit and kept a cold exterior.

“Is there anything we need to get for you, Sherlock?” H straightened up and looked Mycroft in the eye.

“No, thank you, Mycroft.”

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but Mycroft stepped away and began leading Sherlock down the stairs. Sherlock sighed, making sure the straps were tight on his son’s carrier, and started after Mycroft.

XX

The departure from his parents wasn’t emotional in the slightest.

Mainly chaotic.

His father patted his shoulder, and gave Benedict a long stare. Sherlock felt uncomfortable after Benedict seemed to straighten in his carrier and glare back at his grandfather.

His mother shrieked and threw a vase, only to be restrained by the help. She was taken upstairs and laid to bed with a sedative.

The help were the ones who cooed over Sherlock and asked for him to come home, patting Benedict and speaking to him in baby talk.

The drive was quiet, and Sherlock wonders if he would’ve preferred a train to the tense drive with Mycroft.

Benedict didn’t warble like he usually did alone with his mother, and Sherlock was intrigued that Benedict sat quietly, fumbling with his puzzle toy he was given when he could sit up, considering his son was usually a babbling baby.

It didn’t take long for him to finish it and Sherlock didn’t bat an eye, only handed him a new one. Mycroft, on the other hand, did a double take and sat up straighter, watching Benedict. He showed interest for a bit, but slowly diverted his attention elsewhere.

XX

The building was next to a small sandwich deli, and the door was in need of a new coat of paint. Sherlock stared up at it and clutched his sons carrier tighter. Benedict was babbling nonsense, throwing a fit as he was bored and had been for quite some time in the car. Sherlock inhaled deeply and followed Mycroft up the few stairs. It was quiet and in a quaint neighborhood; an Italian restaurant was across the street and he knew there was a small park close to here.

His anxiousness only grew as he looked at the building, trying to determine if this flat was a dependable home now. He was tired of adjusting to a new home and organizing his clothes, only to be moved not much sooner.

The door opened and Mycroft stepped indoors, greeting someone with a neutral voice that Sherlock knew he used for engaging in business conversations.

Sherlock followed sullenly, keeping his head down, feeling out of place, awkward. As the door closed behind him, he suddenly noticed how lanky his body was; his skin was too pale, his childs babbling was loud.

Then, an older woman was stepping up in front of him and smiling at his son.

His eyes widened upon realization, the woman in front of him was the one he had met before the train station. The realization showed in her eyes as they made eye contact, but she grinned and shook his hand, giving him a wink.

“Delighted to meet you, Mr. Holmes.”

He blinked, swallowed and looked at Mycroft, who was heading up the stairs to look at Sherlock’s home.

Sherlock followed, feeling as if every step was a mountain range.

The door opened and suddenly, _John, Alpha, Alpha Alpha Alpha ALPHAALPHAALPHAALPHA-_

He stopped and swallowed, Benedict’s shrieking reaction to his father bringing him back. John and Sherlock looked at each other, quiet for a moment, then a woman with light blonde hair poked her head around John, who umped and snapped out of it.

“Oh, John, is this the new flatmate?”

Mycroft put his hand on his chest and straightened his suit, sliding his hand down his chest and then turning to press it against Sherlock’s back. John swallowed and forced a smile, gripping the womans shoulder gently.

“Yes, it is. This is Sherlock. Sherlock, this is Mary, my fiancée.” Mary looked at the two men in a puzzling manner, but Sherlock was bright enough to see her gears turning in her head. Mycroft stepped in front of Sherlock, making her pause.

“Sherlock will be paying half the rent and living in the room next door, that connects through the flat, since he seemingly cannot afford a full flat by himself.” Mary blinked and stepped backwards, offering her flat open.

“Come on in, then. Introduce yourselves a bit more.”

The sudden warmth from the strange woman made both Mycroft and Sherlock stiffen, and they slowly filed into the apartment. Sherlock sat down slowly on the couch, while Mycroft declined to sit down.

“uh, John, why don’t you make some tea?” John suddenly realized he and Sherlock hadn’t stopped eye contact for some time, and he blinked, looking at Mary.

“Oh, uh, alright. Anybody have any preferences, or should I just put whatever into the kettle?”

“I’m not staying long, anything would be preferred, thank you.” John and Mycroft shared a look and John scuttled into the kitchen after a moment. He shook as he set the tea up, trying to listen in on the conversation as he turned the stove on and put the kettle on it.

“So, Sherlock, are you…” she glanced at Benedict as he stared at her, then reached into his lap for his dummy,” are you a student at one of the nearby colleges?” Sherlock opened his mouth to answer, informing her he would _not_ be studying but instead here to stay with _his_ Alpha, but Mycroft basically side stepped his response with his own.

“Sherlock isn’t studying at the moment, but he intends on attending classes next semester.” Mary nodded as John walked back in with a tray of tea.

“Oh, I see. What will you be studying?” She took a cup from John, who set it down before he dropped it, and sat next to Mary on the couch, putting his hands in his lap awkwardly. Sherlock stared at him, muttering an answer as he stared at John.

“I’m not sure just yet.  I will probably be taking night classes so I can take care of my son.” Mycroft glanced at Sherlock as Benedict made a gurgle and reached for Mycroft’s umbrella, who jerked it away softly.

“Do you have an occupation?” Sherlock rubbed his sons hands and hoped Benedict could hold out until this awkward introduction was over. John sipped his tea and stared at Sherlock over the rim of the cup.

“Not yet. I plan on finding one soon, until then I have a savings account that should help pay my bills until I find a stable job.” Mycroft and Sherlock knew better, he had a large trust fund from his family that would supply his income unless his father decided to cut him off, but Mycroft would not allow it most likely.

“Alright, sounds good, anything else we might need to know?” Mycroft eyed his brother, knowing he would probably pull a stunt to get out of this, and Sherlock sighed as he jostled Benedict for a moment on his lap, his son getting fussy.

“Well, yes, actually. I find that when moving in with strangers, roommates should get to know the worst instead of the best. I often don’t eat, play the violin at obscene times, I often suffer from sensory overstimulation and I tend to put people off, but the good that usually comes from that con means I wont have people over, so don’t bother worrying about that. My son is restless, although, and we must have many things child locked.”

Mary blinked a few times and John set his sauce and cup down in a clatter to break the silence. Mycroft looked like he could kill Sherlock, but John clapped his hands together, garnering Benedicts attention as he stared at his father, a few seconds later he gave him a bored look.

“I think we can handle that!”

Mary gave him a look that Sherlock sniffled at.

“As long as you help buy the milk and take the rubbish to the bins, I think you’ll settle in nicely. W-Why don’t I go get Ms. Hudson to open your r-“ The older woman came up the stairs, smiling at all of them.

“Oh, dearies, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” She crossed the living room and handed the key to Sherlock.

“John, you can show him the spare room, I hope?” John nodded and stood to speak to Ms. Hudson, lead her to the door then turn back around as Mycroft stood, buttoning his jacket.

“Sherlock’s furniture should be here within an hour, he also will be having his first week of groceries delivered within the same hour.” He nodded at Sherlock, then caressed Benedicts cheek, who passed flatulence as he did so. Mycroft’s nose wrinkled and he straightened his suit.

“Sherlock, contact me if anything comes up. Mr. Watson,” John and Mycroft shard a look, standing shoulder to shoulder, “You take care.” Mycroft spoke coldly, and Sherlock knew his presence would still be in the room even after he was gone.

John fiddled with the key, then turned around and smiled at the two remaining.

“Mary, will you start dinner? I’m gonna help Sherlock clean up the spare room and unpack when his furniture gets here.” Mary frowned and pursed her lips.

“Are you sure you wanna do that? Wont it hurt your leg, or shoulder?” John waved it off.

“I’ll be alright, come along, Sherlock.”

Sherlock had tuned them out, until he heard Mary mention pain in John’s arm and leg. He stood, his son already starting to hit his mother out of boredom, and followed John as he walked down the hall, and around a small corner, there were a few unnecessary stairs that Sherlock wondered why hey were there and John stopped a locked door. Sherlock glanced at the wall, noticed it was offset, so most likely this area had been walled off to make an extra room. As John fiddled with the old lock, Sherlock shifted Benedict to his hip; he studied John for a moment.

“Iraq or Afghanistan?”

John stilled as the door opened, and he turned to look at Sherlock. Benedict was still giving him that bored look, but Sherlocks look was...intrigued.

“Afghanistan.” The door creaked open.

Sherlock walked past and in to the room, glancing around. There was a large window, a walk in closet (Sherlock considered, for a moment, if he could renovate it into an area for Benedict) and the bedroom was large… well, adequate enough so that he wouldn’t feel stuffed into it with his son.

“How…How did you know about…? You and your brother play mind games, eh?” John stared at Sherlocks back as he turned around, setting Benedict on the ground to play with a toy.

“I didn’t know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military, when you first came into that office with my brother. Your fiancée mentioned you had pain in your arm and shoulder, and from what I can guess one of them is a military wound, the other is from PTSD. I would’ve guessed the limp you’ve got, except when offered to sit you’ve seem to have forgotten about, meaning your shoulder is the one that’s wounded, meaning the limp is psychosomatic and you were honourably discharged from the military, but because you’re employed, a doctor, nonetheless, a surgeon,  means youre an army doctor. I see things, John.” John watched as Sherlock glanced at the wall that separated them from the kitchen, then back at John. He put his hands in his pockets.

“I see how you mutter, your nervous around your fiancée. She has no idea about us. You intend to keep it like that.” John’s cheeks were pink and he glanced behind him, before shutting the door almost.

“Yes, I do. I love Mary, I finally…I finally moved on when you showed back up and I’m still curious if you did that on purpose.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“I can promise you,” He bent to pick up Benedict, who squealed in anger,”  I intended to keep you as far from my son and I as possible. Now, theres nothing I can do but stay here with you.” The two were quiet. Benedict passed flatulence once more and john sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Sherlock, I didn’t intend…I never wanted that to happen that day. Youre brilliant a-and gorgeous, and I’m sorry we couldn’t meet in a better way.” They were quiet once more, and Sherlock turned away, holding an angry, squirming child to his chest.

“It wouldn’t be like this if youd just…stayed.”

Tension in the room made Benedict squirm and John turned around.

“I’m gonna go...check on the dinner.”

He left and Sherlock stayed, turning around and eyeing the room.

The room was a bit dusty, the carpet could be vacuumed. He set his jacket on a hook he noticed in the closet.

The furniture arrived within the hour as Mycroft had said and John did help carry a few things in, helping supervise and setting up the bed and dresser. A few boxes were deposited in the corner, and they set the crib for Benedict by the closet.

All of the furniture was covered in plastic, transparent tarps, and Sherlock began pulling them off, folding them… It didn’t take long with John’s help to shift everything into place. Mycroft had ordered a new bed and dresser for Sherlock, dark, oak wood, but the crib for Benedict was the same one Sherlock had picked out. He rolled a carpet out onto the floors carpet, to protect it, and then began sorting their clothes. Mycroft had also sent the small changing station, clothes, diapers and toys, as well as a few modified ones, for Benedict to play with.

Sherlock settled in physically, but… he would’ve rather been at home, sitting with a sunhat on to cover him and his son as they napped together near the bees.

He sat on the ground for a few hours, slowly folding clothes as Benedict sat next to him, fumbling with his toys.

Sherlock could hear the two talking in the kitchen, the coldness from John was seeping into their already strained bond, and Sherlock wanted to get in bed and stay there.

**XX**

The first night, he declined their offer for dinner and stayed in his room. He changed Benedict, kissed him and held him in his cool bed, his son suckling a dummy quietly. Sherlock cradled him and stroked his hair, kissing his son. He normally would’ve put his son into bed, but he needed the comfort in this new home. He hadn’t wanted this, he hadn’t wanted any of it. He wanted his son, cradled in a soft onesie an diaper, sitting on his chest, napping in the sunroom while he read. He wanted to cradle his son and carry him down the hallways every morning for breakfast. Hed wanted to listen to his son learn to play the grand piano in the foyer.

His son drooled on his chest and Sherlock held him closer.

**XX**

“I didn’t realize he had a bloody child, John.”

John was washing his face as Mary slid under the covers into bed behind him and he sighed, turning off the tap before leaving he dim bathroom.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would affect anything. We need the money, so just…put up with it for a while.” John sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to battle with Mary- Sherlock’s reclusive attitude into his bedroom meant he wouldn’t see him for the rest of the night, and his son probably wouldn’t be openly accessible to him until he earned Sherlock’s trust.

Considering their bond was ice cold and weighed down with negative energy, John knew he would have to work thrice as hard.

“I don’t want to be a babysitter, John.” Mary said, pulling him out of his thoughts as he slipped into bed.

“You won’t be, Sherlock isn’t going to dump his bay into your arms when he starts university.” He reassured her as he shut off his lamp and settled on his back. Mary sighed and laid down a moment later, pecking his cheek before rolling onto her side.

John could only hope reassuring her was also helping reassuring himself.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anybody wanna help me find a fic thats on here? It's a sherlock one, but like, John has an artifical pregnancy he and Sherlock planned, and the baby is superrrrr smart like sherlock when he was younger. Plus, Sherlock comes back from The Fall. I dunno, dudes, can't find it myself.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My name is changed to ObsceneSins, so make sure to update any bookmarks or anything needed if you follow me.

Sherlock felt a presence above him in his sleep, startling himself awake. He kept calm and rolled over to see John standing over him.

He took John in from where he looked.

_Restless._

_Tired._

_Alpha._

_Emotional?_

“Why are you in my bedroom?” He spoke quietly, not sure if Benedict was awake just yet, and he didn’t want to make him cranky.

John inhaled, then stepped back, giving Sherlock the personal space he felt comfortable enough with. He sat up , pushing his duvet off quietly and standing. He stood next to John, and Johns nose crinkled.

“I…I smelled an Alpha. You smell like another Alpha.”

John’s hand reached for his hair and neck at the same time, and Sherlock stepped back, the back of his legs hitting his bed as he attempted to move away from the uncomfortable advances of his Alpha. John dropped his hands, his face sinking, sullen, looking disappointed that Sherlock did not warrant anything from him.

“My brother scented me before I moved in. I felt more comfortable knowing you would not approach me so suddenly if you smelt another Alpha.” He said, voice unwavering. John took a step back, and rubbed the back of his head, glancing behind him to make sure Mary was not approaching the bedroom.

“Sherlock, I know what your brother and I agreed to, but I really don’t…I don’t think I can live under the same roof as you.” They both were quiet and Sherlocks fists curled. He felt…anger. He did not want  He stepped forward and John and he leveled gazes.

“You will not force me from another home, John Watson. You hurt me, you used my body, you have caused me to feel like I have nowhere to go, and I have had no Alpha to seek comfort in. I will stay here and you will respect my wishes as an Alpha, as _my_ Alpha.”

They were quiet, and for a few chastising moments, the negative space around them felt heavy.

Benedicts cry startled Sherlock and he had to break his Alphas gaze for his pup, walking over and bending to pick up his child, who reached his arms towards his mother.

John clenched his fists, then sighed, exhaling any comments he had towards his Omegas behavior. He knew he could not reign over him; they were equals, if even that. Sherlock and he were not romantically involved, there was no possibility of Sherlock ever listening to him, but he would try to get the young brunette to open up.

He turned back towards the door and gripped the doorknob, before saying over his shoulder,

“We cant make things work unless you help. Just eat breakfast or dinner with us once in a while.” John was quiet as he retreated, leaving for work, and leaving Sherlock behind. 

He stared at the spot where his Alpha had stood mere moments ago, before his vision blurred and he had to shake his head to regain his focus.

**XX**

“ _Mr. Holmes, I can’t stop him, h-“_

Mycroft looked up as the sudden voice of his assistant suddenly burst in a panicked tone through his connecting office phone, but was slightly startled as the door to his office opened and Sherlock rushed in, flinging shut the door behind him. His son was whining in his mothers arm where he was nestled.

“Sherlock, what an unexpected visit.” He spoke in monotone, pushing the small burrowed feeling of content and true surprise that Sherlock had been eager enough to see him that he had stormed in, unannounced. Mycroft had already insisted to Sherlock that any business they needed to address should be handled when Mycroft wasn’t  busy during work hours; essentially, every hour was a work hour, but he would rather deal with Sherlock knowing the problem beforehand than having Sherlock storm in and out without a solution to his problem.

“I don’t want to live there, Mycroft.” Benedict squealed in his mothers arm and Sherlock sighed, pacing back and forth. Mycroft could see his brothers omega was causing him to panic. A new environment, and his sudden arrival of his Alpha after a prolonged period of time _not_ being around him, was making Sherlock drift from…well, being Sherlock to being his counterpart Omega.

Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose and stood, walking around his desk to sit on the edge of it.

“Sherlock, I’ve explained this to you several times, there is no other way to get through to you. I cannot do anything about this now; legally, you are not under my ownership.”

Sherlock whirled around; his childs blanket flung with his body and Benedict shrieked in his mothers arms, but Sherlocks face showed distress, anger.

“I am _NOT something to be owned.”_ Sherlock hissed. Mycroft crossed his arms, a sign of defense in body language, but Sherlock seemed to relax at that, the image of his brother admitting some ounce of guilt for his words calming him.

“Omegas must be owned by a family member, whether they be Alpha or Beta, a spouse, or a permanent mate.  It is law, Sherlock.”

“Do _not_ belittle me!” Sherlock turned and Mycroft stopped, seeing Sherlock’s chest heaving. His hair was on end; Christ, Sherlock wasn’t even completely dressed. His pup sobbed in his mother’s arms, irritated at the rush out of the house, the pinch of the cold wind on his face and his mother’s angst.

“I am not trying to- Bloody Hell, Sherlock, give me your son.” Mycroft was not one to extend his vocabulary to slang or curse words, but Sherlocks irritablilty was giving him a migraine. He reached for Benedict and gently wrestled him from his brother’s stiff arms, pulling the shivering child close. He bundled him in his blanket and caressed his back, holding his nephew close. He bent his head, deciding the bets thing to do to a sniveling toddler was to scent him. He rubbed and caressed him with his cheek and nose, pecking his nephew softly with his lips.

Sherlock eased himself into a chair, his fingers rubbing his thighs, his foot tapping the ground. He calmed somewhat as his son began to calm as well; his maternal instincts coming back in place of his counterpart. Benedict was shushed and he looked up at Mycroft, the two were looking at one another . Benedict seemed puzzled by Mycroft, but his eyelids lowered and he looked bored with the revelation of this human he recognized.  Mycroft gave a chuckle and caressed his nephews thick hair, before looking at the now calmed Sherlock.

“Are you able to control your emotions?” Sherlock blinked and he settled into his chair as Mycroft gently rocked Benedict, who seemed to be looking for something to interest himself in. He was awarded when he found the bright, orange kerchief in Mycroft’s pocket and yanked it out.

“I apologize for behaving erratically, but Mycroft, please, I beg you, don’t make me live there. My Alpha is clearly not interested in my presence nor my son.”

“Have you put forth any effort to let him know he has that option?” Mycroft gave Sherlock a dead stare to read him, and Sherlock, though it was subtle, turned slightly, proving Mycroft’s point.

“Mycroft, he knew from when you transferred ownership that he had the option to try. But he hasn’t stepped forward once.” Sherlock said with a light sneer, but Mycroft stood, and towered for a moment over the Omega. He passed the child back to his mother and bent down; now both Omega and child were covered in his scent.

“Yes, but have you tried as well?” He turned and retreated back behind his desk, sitting into his chair and resting his chin on his hand.

Sherlock sighed and looked at his son, locking half lidded gazes. His body felt a bit healed with Mycroft’s Alpha hormones spreading through his son and his own self, but the negativity he was being pressed with from his own Alpha would overrule it.

“Sherlock..” Mycroft sighed and he studied the Omega, his true demeanor really showing through now. Sherlock was weak now, he couldn’t take any more people using him or not accepting the fact he had let his walls down for them. His son and he would not press further if their Alpha and father had not accepted them into his life.

Sherlock had circles starting to show under his eyes as he looked across the rom at Mycroft, practically begging his brother to help.

“I will see what I can do for now. Just please put forth some effort while I handle things, can you do that for me, Sherlock?” The Omega seemed so small now, hunched in on himself. His child cried as Sherlock shifted and stood. He hugged him close.

‘Thank you, Mycroft.” He said quietly as he departed, shuffling on his way out, obvious he didn’t want to put forth the effort into leaving.

Mycroft ran a hand over his  face, for once feeling the stress beginning to wear his body down.

**XX**

The travel back home had worn his son out, who struggled and cried in the cab back home. He wanted to sit up and observe everything around him, he wanted to learn. Sherlock held him a little tighter as his son attempted to look out the window as they passed by.

Returning home felt intrusive and cold instead of warm and welcoming. He almost preferred the cold, rainy London outside the door. Benedict whined and tossed his feet back and forth, wanting his mother to put him down. He was eager to crawl around, sit without his mother and try to be independent, but Sherlock would prefer to do so upstairs in their bedroom. Before he could climb the stairs, the door down the hallway opened and the land lady, Mrs. Hudson , stepped out. Her smile could’ve been contagious if Sherlock didn’t feel like he had a void in his chest.

“Doing some outing today?” She asked sweetly. He pulled his jacket over himself, not wanting her to see how he had rushed out with a partial outfit of his street clothes and his night wear. Benedict grumbled to his father and yanked on his scarf.

“No, just…just getting some air.” He coughed. He felt awkward standing in front of this woman he did not know, but had been lectured from on his way out of town.

“You and I both know that’s a fib.”

They locked sight for a moment and Benedict began fussing, screeching. His mothers attention was not on him and he did not like that. Mrs. Hudson stepped back and gestured to her flat.

“How about a cuppa and some biscuits?”

**XX**

Mrs. Hudson was literal about the tea and biscuits, setting a large plate of them in front of him with his tea. He bounced the fussy Benedict on his lap, but the child began to scream louder and his face was red.

“May I?” Sherlock watched as Mrs. Hudson offered her arms and he hesitatingly let go, passing his pup to the land lady.

She took him and sat down across from him, Benedict calming as he stared at this new person, taking her in, not sure what to do with the information that was being given to him. His face color returned to normal, and Sherlock watched his sons face droop into one of disinterest once he figured out whatever he needed to.

Mrs. Hudson chuckled and turned him back around to face Sherlock, then handed him a biscuit, and held him tight.

“My family was an unprecedented bunch. Needed a helping hand quite too often, but I’m not sure I could handle this bundle as easily as you do constantly.” She took a sip of her tea as Benedict gnawed on his biscuit, making it mushy. Sherlock took a sip of his tea, then frowned and added sugar.

“He is…unique.”

“He’s got an unique parent.” She winked at him and Benedict let out a fussy whine as the cookie fell apart. He didn’t understand the concept of this solid food turning into soggy crumbs.

“So, tell me how you ended up back in London?”  Sherlock hesitated for a moment, then set his cup down.

“It was temporary for the time being, my son was sick and London was too frigid for him. His immune system was compromised from his birth-“ Sherlock prattled off the lie he had established in the moments he had assume where this woman would try to dig into him, as if she was really trying to get to know him.

“John is your Alpha, isn’t he?” Mrs. Hudson cut him off. She smiled as Sherlock halted in his explanation and he slowly closed his mouth. Mrs. Hudson smiled and handed Benedict back to his mother, the baby understanding how biscuits worked now and was now gumming on them happily.

Sherlock took his son and tried to not let his new landlady see past the exterior he put out.

He glanced around her flat, wondering what he could understand about this woman in the few seconds he had before the silence was uncomfortable. The dollies and basket of knitting yarn told him more than he needed.

“And you like your herbal medication.” He said, straightening. He chuckled and patted her side.

“It’s for my hip, dearie. I know what type you are, you know things about people, cant you?” He turned away and looked out the window.

“I don’t _know_ things, I see them. I deduce. I make connections.” Benedict had that bored look once more and Mrs. Hudson smiled, and leaned closer.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Sherlock gave a sigh, though it was for show and Mrs. Hudson knew it.

“Yes. Mary doesn’t know yet, nor I doubt she ever will. I would like to keep my relation to John at a minimum acquaintance…We have a complicated history.” Mrs. Hudson nodded and leaned back.

“I’m sorry that your relationship isn’t in a place where you can recover it.” She was quiet and Sherlock nodded. She stood and dropped a hand to his shoulder.

“If you need anything, dearie, just ask.”

“I’ll consider it.”

**XX**

Mycroft was not in a mood to handle more obligations, especially when his current ones involved handling the death of a classified VIP from a neighboring country in Europe, that if any more complications arose, would probably deter with going to war.

But Mycroft always had time for Sherlock, no matter what the issue may be for his stubborn brother.

He watched John Watson across the street as he answered the phone booth Mycroft had someone tap into. He soon climbed into the car that had Anthea waiting in it and they pulled away from the curb. Mycroft soon followed after. This was something he had to hastily fit into his schedule, but he knew he could spare the time.

He walked into the warehouse and John sighed when he saw the elder Holmes.

“What is this about, Mycroft? I haven’t hurt Sherlock or done anything to him.” Mycroft stood with a good distance between he and the other Alpha, then he reached into his brief case. He pulled out a folder and handed it to John, who raised an eyebrow at it.

“And this is…?” John questioned him, but when Mycroft didn’t respond, he flipped it open and stared at the papers. His mouth gaped for a second.

“Theyre Sherlock’s ownership papers.”

John and Mycroft shared a look, one of confusion, one of a cold void. John glanced through them for a moment, then closed the folder and held it up.

“Why are you giving these to me? Your name is on them.”

“Mr. Watson, I did not call you out here tonight to simply give you papers pertaining to my brother’s ownership. As far as he is concerned, these papers don’t exist, but for me, they make it so that I am his legal guardian. I can allow him to marry, tell him where to live, tell him what doctor to visit. I don’t push any of these rules on him, I allow him to have full control of everything in his life.” Mycrofts tone was mono, and John would not be able to see past the sharp icicles hanging from his exterior.

“Sherlock has barely made it a week in your household. I know how Sherlock operates, and I know if he cannot find a standing ground where he is balanced in the household, he will not stay. Mr. Watson, if you don’t truly care about Sherlock, as his alpha and your omega, then hand me back the folder and I will remove Sherlock from your household to his and my pleasure. If you do, then prove it to me and I will have no problem with putting your names on Sherlock’s ownership papers.”

This was it. John looked up at Mycroft, and the elder Holmes knew, that John knew that he was being tested. John looked at the folder and weighed it in his hand. Then he looked back up at Mycroft.

For a moment, Mycroft wished John would say no, would hand back the folder and leave. But John clutched the folder in his hand.

“I love my son. His mother may not let me be around him as often, but I care about Sherlock as well. I want to put more effort into being more than just an Alpha who gave up on him, Mr. Holmes.” He handed the folder back and sighed.

“Give me a week, mate. I’ll try to get  him on my side. If I can manage to break down a wall and open him up, then I’ll ask you to change the papers. If not…I wont speak to him again. For his sake.” Johns facial expression was enough for Mycroft to know he spoke the truth, and he took the folder from him.

“Alright, Mr. Watson. A week should suffice.”


End file.
